well, that didn’t take long…

damn, that was quick.  the Repugnican leadership did learn its lesson from l'affaire Foley

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this is sad


this saddens me in many levels.  on a personal one, I've always enjoyed the more whimsical English names for Chinese dishes:  "Virgin chicken", "Buddha's delight", "Ants in a tree", "Eight treasures rice"…

the idea that,

The names of many Chinese dishes have historical, cultural, regional and political connotations that would not necessarily be understood by foreigners, (…)  But the poor English translations "either scare or embarrass foreign customers and may cause misunderstanding of China's diet habits".

is soooo depressing.  wouldn't a traveler want to learn about historical, cultural, regional and political connotations ? even if just to compare to one's own.

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Wall of death : : Another brick in the wall

[taps microphone]  hello?  hello?
                            anybody here…

see what you made me do, Calliope No. 8
…reduced me to posting the obvious.

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comments by Jamie Foxx on Michael Vick caught my eye:

“It’s a cultural thing, I think,” (…) Most brothers didn’t know that, you know.

I used to see dogs fighting in the neighborhood all the time. (1)

I didn’t know that was Fed time. So, Mike probably just didn’t read

his handbook on what not to do as a black star.” (2)


even if these highly doubtful statements were true and Michael Vick grew up "in his neighborhood" thinking there was nothing wrong in sponsored dogfighting, he did grow up and move away, didn't he?  to a little place known as Virginia Tech where he spent a few years, no?  was he so sheltered that he never got his childhood notions challenged? that he expected the entire world to be like he knew at home? 

if so, wouldn't that be fucking sad?


(1) I used to see dogs fighting in my neighborhood too, Jamie. couple of distinctions: they'd get away from each other before much damage was done; they were not bred and trained to fight; it was not an spectacle

(2) nope Jamie.  the handbook Mike didn't read was the other one: the one on being a human being. his loss


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The soundtrack to my summer

This summer hasn't been too great, more downs than ups; one of the highlights is the musical compilation
Tropicália: A Brazilian revolution in sound, which has taken almost uninterrupted residence in my car's CD player.

Tropicália was a short-lived Brazilian arts movement that peaked in the 1967-1968 period, partly inspired by the same effervescence that generated the Summer of love  and Paris May 1968; a worldwide sense that national barriers were breaking down and cultures were taking, giving, borrowing and loaning to each other. 

while Tropicália was not limited to music, its major impact and legacy is musical; exuberant, limitless, daring.  here are some tracks:

This track by Caetano Veloso, one of the leaders of the movement along with Gilberto Gil, became a sort of anthem

Gal Costa, Tom Ze, and Os Mutantes

two versions of the traditional Bat Macumba

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Bedtime for Gonzo

fuckin' A

now comes the fear:  who will be dragged off the deep morass of this administration to replace him?

based on pure, unadulterated ineptitude and blatant politicking, the likely choice has to be Michael Chertoff

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a propos of absolutely nothing…

…except this picture gave me a laughing fit:

obvy, a Photochop job, still marvelous.
c'mon, contest time.  make your best LOLcat !

picture from SLOG: The Stranger's blog (last item)


capped via I Can Has Cheezburger Factory

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