Friday, May 26, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
Thursday, May 11, 2006
B.I.K.E.
screening today at bicycle film fest in NYC
trailer is here it's very, very
another one is M.A.S.H., re San Francisco bikers I think, go (warning:) straight to trailer here, it too is very
via
and another, though still re bikes, not part of that fest, and, it's mountain bikes, and slick, so, opposite, but, still.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
white collar crime/advanced criminal law
I took the exam this morning. I think that was my last law school exam. On Thursday I get a funny hat, and then I should be done.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Sunday, May 07, 2006
The Forgotten City
When with my mother I was coming down
from the country the day of the hurricane,
trees were across the road and small branches
kept rattling on the roof of the car
There was ten feet or more of water
making the parkways impassible with wind
bringing more rain in sheets. Brown torrents
gushed up through new sluices in the
valley floor so that I had to take what road
I could find bearing to the south and west,
to get back to the city. I passed through
extraordinary places, as vivid as any
I ever saw where the storm had broken
the barrier and let through
a strange commonplace: Long, deserted avenues
with unrecognized names at the corners and
drunken looking people with completely
foreign manners. Monuments, institutions
and in one place a large body of water
startled me with an acre or more of hot
jets spouting up symmetrically over it. Parks.
I had no idea where I was and promised myself
I would some day go back to study this
curious and industrious people who lived
in these apartments, at these sharp
corners and turns of intersecting avenues
with so little apparent communication
with an outside world. How did they get
cut off this way from representation in our
newspapers and other means of publicity
when so near the metropolis, so closely
surrounded by the familiar and famous?
-W.C. Williams
from the country the day of the hurricane,
trees were across the road and small branches
kept rattling on the roof of the car
There was ten feet or more of water
making the parkways impassible with wind
bringing more rain in sheets. Brown torrents
gushed up through new sluices in the
valley floor so that I had to take what road
I could find bearing to the south and west,
to get back to the city. I passed through
extraordinary places, as vivid as any
I ever saw where the storm had broken
the barrier and let through
a strange commonplace: Long, deserted avenues
with unrecognized names at the corners and
drunken looking people with completely
foreign manners. Monuments, institutions
and in one place a large body of water
startled me with an acre or more of hot
jets spouting up symmetrically over it. Parks.
I had no idea where I was and promised myself
I would some day go back to study this
curious and industrious people who lived
in these apartments, at these sharp
corners and turns of intersecting avenues
with so little apparent communication
with an outside world. How did they get
cut off this way from representation in our
newspapers and other means of publicity
when so near the metropolis, so closely
surrounded by the familiar and famous?
-W.C. Williams
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Cringe should be in Knoxville who's with me
"Cringe is a monthly reading series hosted by Sarah Brown and Liz Schroeter at Freddy’s Bar & Backroom in Brooklyn. On the first Wednesday of each month, brave souls come forward and read aloud from their teenage diaries, journals, notes, letters, poems, abandoned rock operas, and other general representations of the crushing misery of their humiliating adolescence. It’s better and cheaper than therapy."
"A good test to determine whether or not your material is Cringe-worthy: when you read it to yourself, do you physically cringe? Then it’s funny."
for more, see here
via gothamist
"A good test to determine whether or not your material is Cringe-worthy: when you read it to yourself, do you physically cringe? Then it’s funny."
for more, see here
via gothamist
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Art Gallery of Knoxville new new
Ben Lindquist:
Outdoor Enthusiasts
First Friday: May 5 (6 -11pm)
Ben Lindquist is a contemporary painter, working through traditional
folk art and American Realism. With an arrangement of maquettes and
large-scale paintings, Lindquist illustrates a wonderfully perverse
and purposeful image of our relationship to the outdoors.
Meet the artist Friday night.
Please stop by Wednesday for our open video screening / meeting. No
particular video is scheduled for tomorrow night - but we will be
scheduling specific events /conversations soon. Feel free to suggest
meeting topics - we're happy to hear from you anytime.
Coming soon:
A Critical Reading Group (on Thursday nights)
The Dune Buggy Attack Battalion
-----
The Art Gallery of Knoxville
317 N Gay St.
Knoxville, TN 37917
ph.865-595-4401
Outdoor Enthusiasts
First Friday: May 5 (6 -11pm)
Ben Lindquist is a contemporary painter, working through traditional
folk art and American Realism. With an arrangement of maquettes and
large-scale paintings, Lindquist illustrates a wonderfully perverse
and purposeful image of our relationship to the outdoors.
Meet the artist Friday night.
Please stop by Wednesday for our open video screening / meeting. No
particular video is scheduled for tomorrow night - but we will be
scheduling specific events /conversations soon. Feel free to suggest
meeting topics - we're happy to hear from you anytime.
Coming soon:
A Critical Reading Group (on Thursday nights)
The Dune Buggy Attack Battalion
-----
The Art Gallery of Knoxville
317 N Gay St.
Knoxville, TN 37917
ph.865-595-4401
Monday, May 01, 2006
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