it’s your last chance to summer picnic! Get your hands on an Underwood can, and take the vino with you. I ain’t playing - yes, it’s wine, it’s in a can, but it is so much easier for light travel/outdoor imbibing than a bottle. But yeah, it’s wine, in a can … from Portland. So, you take the bad with the good.
Went to Storm King this weekend. As evidenced, it was beautiful and a really fun day trip. Go while the season - fummer - is perfect.
A galvanized pail of hot pretzel rolls, boiled in lye and studded with white salt crystals, like Amish rhinestones."Like Amish rhinestones" is an actual caption in this New York Times restaurant review.
From the series 122 Color Photographs
20″ × 16″
Keld Helmer-Petersen, 122 Color Photographs at Yossi Milo Gallery.
Just discovered The Rumpus’ Madame Clairevoyant, and I’m already a little bit obsessed with these brief, poetic horoscopes. They’re not like the typical bs “forecasts”, but more like weekly poetic installments of the life-and-emotion-related genre (cf. Ask Polly). For instance, a Scorpio sampling:
The words and stories of your life might bend and shake; the joy in your heart might be too much to be contained. You can live so well this week. You can break so many rules. You can let your dreams overflow. Watch the sky change, watch the shadows move across the ground.
Brooklyn has become an international adjective meaning ‘what’s next.’… so according to northside media, Jed Bartlet just goes around saying “Brooklyn”?
It was the value of joy, irrespective of happiness and, certainly, of intellectual pride. All good art teaches some variant of that consoling and humbling truth, which anyone might recognize. Van Gogh is its saint.Oh, Van Gogh! The New Yorker’s Peter Schjeldahl on the Met’s collection of Van Goghs on view.
She knows not to show me a pair of Nike Foamposites in any facet of life.Though I have no idea what this means, it still made me laugh. I actually know the “she” of this quote. Gal’s got kicks for days. My boyfriend and I are more like, “who’s buying the $12 wine tonight?” … maybe we need to up our couple game.
my manager, a woman who dressed like she was going to the Renaissance faire literally every single day of the year, god bless herA manager at Magnolia bakery? I’d believe it.
relatability—a logism so neo that it’s not even recognized by the 2008 iteration of Microsoft Word with which these words are being written—has become widely and unthinkingly accepted as a criterion of value, even by people who might be expected to have more sophisticated critical tools at their disposal.
To get or not to get, that is the question!
Ira Glass apparently pissed off a lot of people with an “off-the-cuff” comment about Shakespeare not being relatable. I’ve put my two cents in on likeability before, which I think is arguably closely tied to relatability. Ultimately, I do not think one has to be able to relate to a piece of work to understand that is has creative value and/or experience it as a moving or interesting work of art. For the record: I think Shakespeare is great, and probably shouldn’t be relatable? You’ve got to get the number for a good shrink if you can relate to Lady MacBeth. (Though I don’t really think relatability need be an issue we take up with the Bard, for that matter.)
But then again, a piece of shit by any other name would still be a stinker.
The question to relate, then, is up to you.
It was executed with a ruthless perfection seldom seen outside 16-year-old Russian girls’ figure skating routines.
I love Gawker’s Best Restaurant in NY.