Former Massachusetts governor Dukakis is the man whose inability to credibly ride shotgun in a Sherman tank, or answer a simple question about how much blood he would demand as tribute if some scary crack addicted raped his wife, is pretty much directly responsible for the presidency of George W. Bush. (You could argue that George H.W. Bush's 1988 landslide victory over Dukakis portended a future an ugly future in American politics, one in which image and emotion overwhelmed any discussion of issues. You would be right!) Because ugly buildings, whores and losing Democratic presidential candidates all get respectable if they last long enough, Michael Dukakis is widely tapped to be named as the interim appointment to Ted Kennedy's Senate seat, in the event that Massachusetts takes up the late great man's suggest to rewrite the law that they passed in 2004 so that then-governor Mitt Romney couldn't appoint someone to a vacant Senate seat.
It basically works like so: after you list some basic preferences, the application tells you which pieces you'll probably like in each room as you enter it, then, based on what you do or don't like, the program re-calibrates your preferences and makes updated recommendations. It also lets you create your own tour of artworks in the museum, basically like a playlist. Obviously, this program is both completely genius and slightly problematic.
Current MTA guidelines strictly prohibit the placing of plaques or memorials within the confines of subway stations, according to agency spokesman Kevin Ortiz.
Why the plaque hate? It's not like the plaque on your teeth, which you should fight at all costs, it's cultural heritage, man! The reason the MTA won't be renaming the station anytime soon is possibly worse.
The speech Kennedy delivers, which I was not familiar with until yesterday, stands even 40 years later as a close-to-perfect expression of modern American liberalism.(The best part begins at 5:20.)
I can't even imagine how much money was put out on the table in order to make this happen, but Drake somehow managed to get Kanye, Wayne and Eminem to guest on his new track, "Forever," which leaked yesterday and which is going to be on the soundtrack to a new documentary about Lebron James. Because Lebron James is interesting enough to warrant a documentary, apparently.
Anyways, the track is pretty good, even despite Drake's presence on it. Kanye makes jokes about Benjamin Button, McLovin and Ferris Beuler, rocks the line, "You would think I ran the world like Michelle's husband," and he says "Like they was down with the old me / No you fucking wasn't," which makes me laugh every time I hear it. Wayne talks about Mars a bunch, then New Orleans a little, then Nevada for some reason, and ok, on second thought, maybe this verse is a little weak. Eminem makes up for it, though, with a dizzying verse that's more impressive than anything I've heard from him in a very long time.
One thing I really just cannot get down with, though, is the hook. Sung by Drake himself, it goes like this:
I guess this could be backlash for the demonstrations in Central Park last weekend for National Go-Topless Day, but more likely it's just a stuffy Uptown cultural institutions being stuffy and Uptown about nudity that isn't frozen in marble or oil. Try that shit at the New Museum or across the street from the Met at the National Academy, which is currently showing an exhibition all about bodies and nudes, Hyman, and you'd totally get an exhibition out of it.
It's strange when cool people do decidedly uncool things. Like, doesn't it stand to reason that anyone who's cool enough to know and love a legendary indie label would also be cool enough to know that wearing a pair of sneakers emblazoned with a record label's logo is sort of lame? I would tend to think so. But this hasn't stopped Sub Pop from teaming up with Nike to design—sorry, guys—the most hideous footwear this side of Crocs.
FreeWilliamsburg has this great video interview with a guy named Jimmy Tarangelo, who's been living in a van by the Hudson River for eight years. He lives with four dogs, "who protect him," and sometimes he'll get an egg sandwich at Dunkin' Donuts, "for a treat on weekends." He "wants for nothing," though "the hardest part is not having a bathroom." He's an optimist and is hopeful for the future. Jesus, just watch the video, what a fucking good guy.
After Trapped in the Closet it's nearly impossible to take anything R. Kelly does seriously, but he seems extremely aware of that, and happy to keep making millions while playing a semi-serious parody of himself (which makes him one of the great cultural geniuses of our time). For instance, here's the video for "Number One," the first single off his upcoming album Untitled, currently slated for an October 13 release, which features choice lines like "Having sex with you is like making hits" and "I'm in your mix like a number one record."
Edward Kennedy was a talismanic figure in American public life: the younger brother of two inspirational leaders who died young, and an embodiment of an epic narrative, the fuck-up youngest son who had greatness thrust upon him and gradually, despite his tragic flaws (including something your parents either could or could never forgive him for), earned it.
This is probably why today, following his death of brain cancer, we're hungry to memorialize the man — but, and perhaps unlike his brothers, Teddy's lasting legacy will actually reside in his tangible political accomplishments.
The theater company will announce a replacement for her shortly (even though we all know no such person exists), but in the meantime I'm about this much less excited about Fall theater. We hope Park Posey feels better soon.
As mentioned a couple days ago, one of the two latest tracks to be released from Jay-Z's upcoming Blueprint 3, "Off That" with Drake, features an especially great verse with jabs at Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly: "They say black vs. white my nigga we off that/ please tell Bill O'Reilly to fall back/ tell Rush Limbaugh to get off my balls/ it's 2010 not 1864." Now, both Limbaugh and O'Reilly have responded. On his radio show, Limbaugh muses:
As far as I know I have never been mentioned in a rap song by anybody. I guess it means I've made it. I'm now in a rap tune by the famous rapper Jay-Z.
That's cute (although he then goes on to make some awkward and strange comments about circumcision). Meanwhile, Bill O'Reilly comes off like, well, a smug jerk (video after the jump).
Tonight is the very last night of this year's edition of Summerscreen, The L's free outdoor film series at McCarren Park, and before the leaves all die and youth is lost, you should head over to Bedford Avenue and North 12th Street. The gates open at 6pm, the better for you to enjoy the happy hour-priced Sixpoint beer and Wines of Australia, um, wines; the food from San Loco and the Van Leeuwen ice cream truck, and music from local acts Bottle Up & Go and the Nouvellas.
Since tonight's movie is the awesomely 80s high school musical Fame, it is imperative that you dress appropriately. The best 80s costume — emphasis on the legwarmers and leotards — as adjudged by a panel of experts (Savit?) will receive a $100 gift certificate to the Bubble Lounge, and a free pair of Roos (80s sneakers, natch).
And then... that's it. Stick around after, we'll be the ones at Turkey's Nest, sitting silently in the corner, wondering where the summer went.
The Greek tragedy about Bacchus, the romanticized god of wine, and his feral followers is a complex tale that welcomes sundry modern readings, but one simple fact stands out: Dionysus was a dick. Because the King of Thebes—who wants that job?—doesn’t pay him enough respect, the underappreciated god bewitches the king’s mother and, while she is in a trance, urges her to tear her son’s head off, which she does. Talk about your vain deities and your disproportionate responses.
Inglourious Basterds is, as many critics are starting to observe, both a treatise on and a demonstration of cinema as a tool of wish-fulfillment. Watching the Bear Jew beat up Nazis with a baseball bat is the closest thing Brad Pitt's band of scalp-taking Jewish soldiers get to "goin' to the movies"; that the Bear Jew is played by torture-porn director Eli Roth seems not insignificant. These vicarious pleasures, of visceral (and, in this case, righteous) violence, are kickass or queasy, depending on your perspective; so too is Tarantino's alternate history of World War Two, rewrit with lightning.
On top of the return to near normalcy in credit markets, we have the fact that the American government is earning some nice returns on its investments.
What does that mean? Well, the govmint has about $11 billion in paper profits right now on its Citigroup
bailout investment. Pretty, pretty good. (Man, if I was the govmint I'd pull out now and buy, like, some jetskis and shit and just live large. But I am not.)
After shutting down in June, Vibe is planning its first quarterly issue with Hall at the helm for November, though there's still no word on Quincy Jones' involvement. Says Brett Wright, the Vibe Lifestyle Network's co-chief executive: “We haven’t spoken to Quincy. I’m sure at some point we’ll speak and figure it out from there.”
Beyond the obvious class-based incongruities of planting a pile of "high" art in a low-income neighborhood, the Times does a good job of pointing out the weird trend of turning old manufacturing hubs into ideal storage facilities for one of today's most valuable commodities (and art storage company is doing something similar at the Brooklyn Navy Yard), and the backdrop of an economy still adjusting to its transition from industrial to post-industrial. No words yet on whether Christie's will hire locals to work in the facility (like Ikea), or offer tours to the public.
This just convinces me even further how repellent BDSM is. You must be mentally ill…
elvis costello perfomance link (the published one here is not working) http://videos.mediaite.com/video/Elvis-Costello-Radio-Radio-1977
I need a sweet baby