Ta much, dear Edosan!
A Scandal in Belgravia - Series 2 Episode 1
[In Buckingham Palace, Sherlock is wrapped in a sheet, apparently otherwise naked]
John Watson: Are you wearing any pants?
Sherlock Holmes: ...No.
John Watson: Okay.
[Sherlock and John in Buckingham Palace]
John Watson: What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?
Sherlock Holmes: I don't know.
John Watson: Here to see the Queen?
[Mycroft Holmes walks in]
Sherlock Holmes: Oh, apparently yes.
[They fall about laughing whilst Mycroft disapprovingly stares]
Mycroft Holmes: Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?
John Watson: We solve crimes. I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope.
[Mycroft hands Sherlock, who is still undressed, some clothes]
Mycroft Holmes: We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on!
Sherlock Holmes: What for?
[Mycroft pours tea]
Mycroft Holmes: I'll be mother.
Sherlock Holmes: And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.
[Sherlock is learning about Irene Adler]
Sherlock Holmes: Who is she?
Mycroft Holmes: Irene Adler. Professionally known as ‘The Woman’.
Sherlock Holmes: "Professionally"?
Mycroft Holmes: There are many names for what she does. She prefers 'Dominatrix'.
Sherlock Holmes: Dominatrix?
Mycroft Holmes: Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex.
Sherlock Holmes: Sex doesn't alarm me.
Mycroft Holmes: [smirking] How would you know? [Sherlock just looks at him] She provides, shall we say, recreational scolding to those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it.
[In Buckingham Palace, Sherlock is wrapped in a sheet, apparently otherwise naked]
John Watson: Are you wearing any pants?
Sherlock Holmes: ...No.
John Watson: Okay.
[Sherlock and John in Buckingham Palace]
John Watson: What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?
Sherlock Holmes: I don't know.
John Watson: Here to see the Queen?
[Mycroft Holmes walks in]
Sherlock Holmes: Oh, apparently yes.
[They fall about laughing whilst Mycroft disapprovingly stares]
Mycroft Holmes: Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?
John Watson: We solve crimes. I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope.
[Mycroft hands Sherlock, who is still undressed, some clothes]
Mycroft Holmes: We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on!
Sherlock Holmes: What for?
[Mycroft pours tea]
Mycroft Holmes: I'll be mother.
Sherlock Holmes: And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.
[Sherlock is learning about Irene Adler]
Sherlock Holmes: Who is she?
Mycroft Holmes: Irene Adler. Professionally known as ‘The Woman’.
Sherlock Holmes: "Professionally"?
Mycroft Holmes: There are many names for what she does. She prefers 'Dominatrix'.
Sherlock Holmes: Dominatrix?
Mycroft Holmes: Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex.
Sherlock Holmes: Sex doesn't alarm me.
Mycroft Holmes: [smirking] How would you know? [Sherlock just looks at him] She provides, shall we say, recreational scolding to those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it.
Ta much, dear Edosan!
- Hello, Ikea help line? I can’t put my bæd together, the optical illusion wasn’t in the box.
- Ah, that happens a lot with our non-euclidian R’lyeh product line. Hold on, I connect your with our dedicated support.
- Ia, Ia ! Cthulhu ftaghn ! Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl ftaghn ?
- Damn Swedish.
Ta much, dear Edosan!
Breakdance @ Spike Jones. All Star Revue. 1951-1952
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAzm9yBfoHM
Hackers from the group Anonymous have broadcast a private conference call between the FBI and Scotland Yard exposing details of an international cybercrime investigation, the FBI has confirmed.
The FBI and Scotland Yard admitted that the security of the call had been breached.
Investigators can be heard discussing their joint inquiry into a cybercrime investigation going through the British courts, and linked to investigations in New York, Baltimore, Los Angeles and Ireland.
It is understood the breach occurred at the US end of the call. As the news broke, Anonymous began taunting the FBI, asking if it was curious about how the group could keep reading the bureau's internal communications.
Investigators can be heard on the broadcast talking about named individuals who have been charged in the UK with hacking into the website of the Serious Organised Crime Agency (Soca).
In one lengthy exchange, the British contingent can be heard discussing a 15-year-old hacker as a "wannabe" and a "pain in the bum". The 15-minute call has been broadcast on the internet, but the names of some of the individuals being sought have been bleeped out by the hackers. ...
The FBI and Scotland Yard admitted that the security of the call had been breached.
Investigators can be heard discussing their joint inquiry into a cybercrime investigation going through the British courts, and linked to investigations in New York, Baltimore, Los Angeles and Ireland.
It is understood the breach occurred at the US end of the call. As the news broke, Anonymous began taunting the FBI, asking if it was curious about how the group could keep reading the bureau's internal communications.
Investigators can be heard on the broadcast talking about named individuals who have been charged in the UK with hacking into the website of the Serious Organised Crime Agency (Soca).
In one lengthy exchange, the British contingent can be heard discussing a 15-year-old hacker as a "wannabe" and a "pain in the bum". The 15-minute call has been broadcast on the internet, but the names of some of the individuals being sought have been bleeped out by the hackers. ...
Ub Iwerks FTW
Celebrated journalist, writer and unshakeable secularist has died from complications of oesophageal cancer
November 18, 2011 5:05 pm
By Andrew Edgecliffe-Johnson
In a rare at-home interview, the cult director opens up about being a ‘happy neurotic’ and why he’s a capitalist now
... With his books never out of print, his films on Netflix, children going to the Broadway versions and Waters narrating the part of Jessica the Hippo for Animal Planet, I ask how he likes life in the mainstream. “It’s great. It’s the final irony in my life,” he answers. “I think we need a new vocabulary, because [now] everybody wants to be an outsider. When I was one, no one wanted to be one.”
He has mixed feelings about gay culture becoming mainstream: “I miss it … I’m for gay marriage. I don’t want to do it, but I certainly think people should be allowed to, and I wouldn’t vote for anybody that would be against it. But at the same time, why do we have to be good now? Why can’t we be villains in movies?” He says it’s good that more people are able to come out of the closet, but adds: “I wish some gay people would go back in. We have enough.”
The subjects he explores in his films, including homosexuality, racism and rebellious youth, have not always been recipes for uncomplicated happiness, but Waters describes himself as “a happy neurotic”. He adds, though, that he will never retire, because “then I’d have time to be nuts”.
He took a one-man show, This Filthy World, to Australia and New Zealand in October, and in recent months he has served as guest curator at the Walker Art Centre in Minneapolis, worked on a book, exhibited in New Orleans, taken part in events from the Bonnaroo music festival in Tennessee to the Venice Biennale, and provided a Vincent Price-like cameo for the video of “The Creep”, a comedy hip hop song featuring Nicki Minaj. Still, he says (a little defensively): “Friday night I went out, wildly had a party until five in the morning with a bunch of friends, so it’s not like I’m a workaholic.”
“I have a lot of plan B, C, D, E, and F in effect,” he adds. What’s plan A, I ask? “Plan A is to make movies. The one thing I can’t do right now.”
He finds himself in a cinematic no-man’s land. Hollywood studios look only for blockbusters, while the demise of art-house cinemas makes investors reluctant to finance independent films. The last half-dozen films he made cost between $4m and $8m, he says. “Nowadays, [backers] want it to cost $500,000 to $1m. I can’t do that because I have four employees. I can’t work for nothing for two years. I’ve done that. I can’t be faux underground.”
A planned Christmas film, Fruitcake, was shelved in 2009 when the production company folded. Waters still hopes to make the film. The plot – boy runs away when he’s caught shoplifting, meets runaway girl raised by gay men who’s searching for her birth mother – “would be incredibly commercial”, he says, straight-faced. ...
By Andrew Edgecliffe-Johnson
In a rare at-home interview, the cult director opens up about being a ‘happy neurotic’ and why he’s a capitalist now
... With his books never out of print, his films on Netflix, children going to the Broadway versions and Waters narrating the part of Jessica the Hippo for Animal Planet, I ask how he likes life in the mainstream. “It’s great. It’s the final irony in my life,” he answers. “I think we need a new vocabulary, because [now] everybody wants to be an outsider. When I was one, no one wanted to be one.”
He has mixed feelings about gay culture becoming mainstream: “I miss it … I’m for gay marriage. I don’t want to do it, but I certainly think people should be allowed to, and I wouldn’t vote for anybody that would be against it. But at the same time, why do we have to be good now? Why can’t we be villains in movies?” He says it’s good that more people are able to come out of the closet, but adds: “I wish some gay people would go back in. We have enough.”
The subjects he explores in his films, including homosexuality, racism and rebellious youth, have not always been recipes for uncomplicated happiness, but Waters describes himself as “a happy neurotic”. He adds, though, that he will never retire, because “then I’d have time to be nuts”.
He took a one-man show, This Filthy World, to Australia and New Zealand in October, and in recent months he has served as guest curator at the Walker Art Centre in Minneapolis, worked on a book, exhibited in New Orleans, taken part in events from the Bonnaroo music festival in Tennessee to the Venice Biennale, and provided a Vincent Price-like cameo for the video of “The Creep”, a comedy hip hop song featuring Nicki Minaj. Still, he says (a little defensively): “Friday night I went out, wildly had a party until five in the morning with a bunch of friends, so it’s not like I’m a workaholic.”
“I have a lot of plan B, C, D, E, and F in effect,” he adds. What’s plan A, I ask? “Plan A is to make movies. The one thing I can’t do right now.”
He finds himself in a cinematic no-man’s land. Hollywood studios look only for blockbusters, while the demise of art-house cinemas makes investors reluctant to finance independent films. The last half-dozen films he made cost between $4m and $8m, he says. “Nowadays, [backers] want it to cost $500,000 to $1m. I can’t do that because I have four employees. I can’t work for nothing for two years. I’ve done that. I can’t be faux underground.”
A planned Christmas film, Fruitcake, was shelved in 2009 when the production company folded. Waters still hopes to make the film. The plot – boy runs away when he’s caught shoplifting, meets runaway girl raised by gay men who’s searching for her birth mother – “would be incredibly commercial”, he says, straight-faced. ...
... It is an irony noted with relish by critics of the protests – one also glumly acknowledged by many of the protesters – that the purchase of so many Vendetta masks has become a lucrative little side-earner for Time Warner, the media company that owns the rights to Moore's creation. Efforts have been made to avoid feeding the conglomerate more cash, the Anonymous group reportedly starting to import masks direct from factories in China to circumvent corporate pockets; last year, demonstrators at a "Free Julian Assange" event in Madrid wore cardboard replicas, apparently self-made. But more than 100,000 of the £4-£7 masks sell every year, according to the manufacturers, with a cut always going to Time Warner. Does that irk Moore?
"I find it comical, watching Time Warner try to walk this precarious tightrope." Through contacts in the comics industry, he explains, he has heard that boosted sales of the masks have become a troubling issue for the company. "It's a bit embarrassing to be a corporation that seems to be profiting from an anti-corporate protest. It's not really anything that they want to be associated with. And yet they really don't like turning down money – it goes against all of their instincts." Moore chuckles. "I find it more funny than irksome."
He has a tricky relationship with Time Warner, umbrella company to both DC Comics, which published V for Vendetta in its graphic novel form, and Warner Brothers, the studio behind the big-screen version. Like many of us, Moore thought the 2003 film made out of his late 90s comic strip The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen a great failure, and by the time V for Vendetta had been adapted for the screen, in 2006, he wanted his name removed from the credits; perhaps even from future editions of the graphic novel too. At the time an interviewer asked Moore if he might be "throwing out the baby with the bathwater", and he gave the sort of strolling, storyteller's response that ought to be laminated and distributed to any artist uncertain about giving over their creations to Hollywood. "Well, I don't own the baby any more," said Moore. "During a drunken night it turned out that I'd sold it to the Gypsies and they had turned my baby to a life of prostitution. Occasionally they would send me glossy pictures of my child as she now was, and they would very, very kindly send me a cut of the earnings…" ...
"I find it comical, watching Time Warner try to walk this precarious tightrope." Through contacts in the comics industry, he explains, he has heard that boosted sales of the masks have become a troubling issue for the company. "It's a bit embarrassing to be a corporation that seems to be profiting from an anti-corporate protest. It's not really anything that they want to be associated with. And yet they really don't like turning down money – it goes against all of their instincts." Moore chuckles. "I find it more funny than irksome."
He has a tricky relationship with Time Warner, umbrella company to both DC Comics, which published V for Vendetta in its graphic novel form, and Warner Brothers, the studio behind the big-screen version. Like many of us, Moore thought the 2003 film made out of his late 90s comic strip The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen a great failure, and by the time V for Vendetta had been adapted for the screen, in 2006, he wanted his name removed from the credits; perhaps even from future editions of the graphic novel too. At the time an interviewer asked Moore if he might be "throwing out the baby with the bathwater", and he gave the sort of strolling, storyteller's response that ought to be laminated and distributed to any artist uncertain about giving over their creations to Hollywood. "Well, I don't own the baby any more," said Moore. "During a drunken night it turned out that I'd sold it to the Gypsies and they had turned my baby to a life of prostitution. Occasionally they would send me glossy pictures of my child as she now was, and they would very, very kindly send me a cut of the earnings…" ...
Absolute bleeding Genius.
Godly documentary film - can't recco it enough, and John Waters narrates!
Who was the first Englishman to eat mango chutney? Not a question, perhaps, to vex your mind with over a curry lunch. But what about the first to describe chopsticks and help to introduce the words "breadfruit", "posse", "barbecue", "soy sauce" and hundreds of others to the language? It was the same man who circumnavigated the globe an unprecedented three times, who first correctly described the winds and currents of the Pacific and who became the first Englishman to land on the Australian mainland. William Dampier seems to have been fated to be first in many quarters, not least when it comes to being forgotten, something Diana and Michael Preston set out to redress in this fine biography.
Dampier was born in East Coker, Somerset, in 1651 and 22 years later sailed away from London in what was to become one of the most adventurous and eventful of lives. He had contracted to work on a Jamaican sugar plantation, a plan that fizzled out in arguments and drinking, a foreshadowing of how Dampier's travelling life would end. But it is the achievements and exploits in between that give the Prestons such a roaring tale to tell.
Like many other impecunious Caribbean drifters at the time, Dampier slipped into a life of freebooting and buccaneering, hopping from ship to ship, raiding Spanish vessels and towns. But already there were signs that this man was different. Notably he kept a journal, a meticulous record of sights, sounds and tastes encountered, plus careful observations of winds, currents and tides. This, as the Prestons rightly point out, is the fascination of the man. Dampier was no East India Company apparatchik or gentleman jotter, observing the unknown globe from the glory of a well-armed poop deck; rather, he threw himself into every experience, often alone, often broke, but always willing to grab his sea chest and move on. ...
Dampier was born in East Coker, Somerset, in 1651 and 22 years later sailed away from London in what was to become one of the most adventurous and eventful of lives. He had contracted to work on a Jamaican sugar plantation, a plan that fizzled out in arguments and drinking, a foreshadowing of how Dampier's travelling life would end. But it is the achievements and exploits in between that give the Prestons such a roaring tale to tell.
Like many other impecunious Caribbean drifters at the time, Dampier slipped into a life of freebooting and buccaneering, hopping from ship to ship, raiding Spanish vessels and towns. But already there were signs that this man was different. Notably he kept a journal, a meticulous record of sights, sounds and tastes encountered, plus careful observations of winds, currents and tides. This, as the Prestons rightly point out, is the fascination of the man. Dampier was no East India Company apparatchik or gentleman jotter, observing the unknown globe from the glory of a well-armed poop deck; rather, he threw himself into every experience, often alone, often broke, but always willing to grab his sea chest and move on. ...
AUGUST 13, 2009
Duchamp's Secret Masterpiece
A coming show sheds light on the French artist's final work
By CANDACE JACKSON
Marcel Duchamp was known for creating cryptic, provocative art out of bicycle wheels and urinals. But his final piece, an installation that requires viewers to peek through peepholes to look at a plaster model of a naked woman in front of a waterfall, was in many ways his most mysterious.
This weekend, to coincide with the 40th anniversary of its installation, the Philadelphia Museum of Art is unveiling a new exhibit on Étant donnés (which roughly translates as Given), Duchamp's last work. The show, which features previously unreleased photographs, drawings and castings used to create the elaborate installation, aims to open a new window into the French-born artist's hidden world.
Built over a 20-year period beginning in 1946, after Duchamp announced he was giving up art to play chess, Étant donnés was partly constructed in a secret space off the artist's bathroom in his small, fifth-floor walk-up apartment in Manhattan. After its completion and Duchamp's death in 1968, it was installed in the Philadelphia Museum of Art in 1969 per detailed instructions the artist had left behind. Art historians credit "Étant donnés" with being the world's first example of installation art—and a major influence on many contemporary artists, such as Jeff Koons, Matthew Barney and Cindy Sherman.
Designed specifically for the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which has the world's largest collection of Duchamp's work, Étant donnés is housed in the museum's contemporary wing. A large, old-fashioned wooden door framed in brick seems perfectly ordinary until viewers look through its two tiny peepholes. Through the small apertures, viewers see a naked woman laying down on a pile of twigs, holding a lamp in front of a hilly nature scene.
Experts say the piece could be a statement on voyeurism in art as well as a sexual metaphor. It may also be an homage to three women Duchamp loved in his life.
Much of the mystery surrounding the piece, perhaps Duchamp's most elaborate, stems from how little is known about how it was actually made. "Duchamp's work process is important, sometimes more important than the final product," says Paul B. Franklin, who works with the Duchamp family to help manage the artist's estate, and is the editor in chief of "Étant donné Marcel Duchamp," a Paris-based scholarly journal dedicated to his work.
The Philadelphia Museum of Art's exhibit begins with some of Duchamp's very early work, including a drawing he did at 15 years old of a lamp similar to the one used in Étant donnés. Michael R. Taylor, the show's curator, says it foreshadows his final masterpiece. "Things that obsessed him as a boy, still obsessed him as an adult," he says.
A catalogue that will be released to coincide with the show features 35 previously unpublished letters written by Duchamp to Brazilian sculptor Maria Martins. Duchamp and Martins, the wife of the Brazilian ambassador to the United States, carried on an affair for years during the construction of Étant donnés, before Duchamp was married to his third wife, Alexina "Teeny" Duchamp. The letters, held by Martins' family until recently, reveal much of what was unknown about how Duchamp created his last work, and provide insight into his emotional life. "My little one, let us devote the most possible time to ourselves alone," he writes on Sept. 5, 1950.
Though for the past 20 years it has been widely believed that Martins's figure was used as a mold for the nude in the piece, it wasn't previously known what materials were used to construct the model, with some experts speculating that it was made of pig skin, which could have been seen as a misogynistic statement. The letters reveal that the figure was made with plaster casts and parchment, painted to look like skin.
In recent years, some writers have argued that Étant donnés was partly inspired by Hollywood's so-called "Black Dahlia" murder in 1947 of 22-year-old Elizabeth Short. The 2006 book "The Exquisite Corpse: Surrealism and the Black Dahlia Murder" by Mark Nelson and Sarah Hudson Bayliss, theorizes that because the nude in Duchamp's installation is in a similar position to that of the murder victim's body, and because Mr. Duchamp's confidant, the photographer Man Ray, was friends with one of the suspects, Étant donnés was partly based on the case.
Duchamp scholars and most art historians disagree with this theory, partly because Duchamp started work on the piece a year before the murder took place. The artist was traveling on a transatlantic ocean liner at the time the "Black Dahlia" murder was committed. The crime remains unsolved.
Duchamp's work has a history of sparking debate. Early in his career he created a controversy at the 1913 Armory Show in New York with his Nude Descending a Staircase, No.2, an abstract, cubist-influenced painting that mimicked stop-motion photography. Critics at the time slammed it, and a New York Times review said it resembled "an explosion in a shingle factory."
Later pieces like Duchamp's Bicycle Wheel, which consists of a bicycle wheel on top of a wooden stool, were built using what he called "readymade" materials, or mass-produced objects he could purchase. In 1917 he rocked the art world with a readymade when he submitted a men's urinal to an art exhibition in New York and called it "Fountain."
Though Duchamp detested the idea of his art being turned into a commercial product, several of his pieces have fetched significant prices at auction. His perfume bottle "Belle haleine-eau de voilette" sold in February for $11.4 million at a Christie's auction in Paris of the estate of fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent, 10 times its estimated sale price.
Francis M. Naumann, owner of the Francis M. Naumann Fine Art gallery, which has sold many Duchamp pieces, says despite the recent record sale, Duchamp's work is not easy to sell.
"Ninety-nine point nine percent of works of art are meant to just be appreciated aesthetically," says Mr. Naumann. "With Duchamp, there's no choice but to penetrate about two inches behind the eyeballs into the brain."
Duchamp's Secret Masterpiece
A coming show sheds light on the French artist's final work
By CANDACE JACKSON
Marcel Duchamp was known for creating cryptic, provocative art out of bicycle wheels and urinals. But his final piece, an installation that requires viewers to peek through peepholes to look at a plaster model of a naked woman in front of a waterfall, was in many ways his most mysterious.
This weekend, to coincide with the 40th anniversary of its installation, the Philadelphia Museum of Art is unveiling a new exhibit on Étant donnés (which roughly translates as Given), Duchamp's last work. The show, which features previously unreleased photographs, drawings and castings used to create the elaborate installation, aims to open a new window into the French-born artist's hidden world.
Built over a 20-year period beginning in 1946, after Duchamp announced he was giving up art to play chess, Étant donnés was partly constructed in a secret space off the artist's bathroom in his small, fifth-floor walk-up apartment in Manhattan. After its completion and Duchamp's death in 1968, it was installed in the Philadelphia Museum of Art in 1969 per detailed instructions the artist had left behind. Art historians credit "Étant donnés" with being the world's first example of installation art—and a major influence on many contemporary artists, such as Jeff Koons, Matthew Barney and Cindy Sherman.
Designed specifically for the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which has the world's largest collection of Duchamp's work, Étant donnés is housed in the museum's contemporary wing. A large, old-fashioned wooden door framed in brick seems perfectly ordinary until viewers look through its two tiny peepholes. Through the small apertures, viewers see a naked woman laying down on a pile of twigs, holding a lamp in front of a hilly nature scene.
Experts say the piece could be a statement on voyeurism in art as well as a sexual metaphor. It may also be an homage to three women Duchamp loved in his life.
Much of the mystery surrounding the piece, perhaps Duchamp's most elaborate, stems from how little is known about how it was actually made. "Duchamp's work process is important, sometimes more important than the final product," says Paul B. Franklin, who works with the Duchamp family to help manage the artist's estate, and is the editor in chief of "Étant donné Marcel Duchamp," a Paris-based scholarly journal dedicated to his work.
The Philadelphia Museum of Art's exhibit begins with some of Duchamp's very early work, including a drawing he did at 15 years old of a lamp similar to the one used in Étant donnés. Michael R. Taylor, the show's curator, says it foreshadows his final masterpiece. "Things that obsessed him as a boy, still obsessed him as an adult," he says.
A catalogue that will be released to coincide with the show features 35 previously unpublished letters written by Duchamp to Brazilian sculptor Maria Martins. Duchamp and Martins, the wife of the Brazilian ambassador to the United States, carried on an affair for years during the construction of Étant donnés, before Duchamp was married to his third wife, Alexina "Teeny" Duchamp. The letters, held by Martins' family until recently, reveal much of what was unknown about how Duchamp created his last work, and provide insight into his emotional life. "My little one, let us devote the most possible time to ourselves alone," he writes on Sept. 5, 1950.
Though for the past 20 years it has been widely believed that Martins's figure was used as a mold for the nude in the piece, it wasn't previously known what materials were used to construct the model, with some experts speculating that it was made of pig skin, which could have been seen as a misogynistic statement. The letters reveal that the figure was made with plaster casts and parchment, painted to look like skin.
In recent years, some writers have argued that Étant donnés was partly inspired by Hollywood's so-called "Black Dahlia" murder in 1947 of 22-year-old Elizabeth Short. The 2006 book "The Exquisite Corpse: Surrealism and the Black Dahlia Murder" by Mark Nelson and Sarah Hudson Bayliss, theorizes that because the nude in Duchamp's installation is in a similar position to that of the murder victim's body, and because Mr. Duchamp's confidant, the photographer Man Ray, was friends with one of the suspects, Étant donnés was partly based on the case.
Duchamp scholars and most art historians disagree with this theory, partly because Duchamp started work on the piece a year before the murder took place. The artist was traveling on a transatlantic ocean liner at the time the "Black Dahlia" murder was committed. The crime remains unsolved.
Duchamp's work has a history of sparking debate. Early in his career he created a controversy at the 1913 Armory Show in New York with his Nude Descending a Staircase, No.2, an abstract, cubist-influenced painting that mimicked stop-motion photography. Critics at the time slammed it, and a New York Times review said it resembled "an explosion in a shingle factory."
Later pieces like Duchamp's Bicycle Wheel, which consists of a bicycle wheel on top of a wooden stool, were built using what he called "readymade" materials, or mass-produced objects he could purchase. In 1917 he rocked the art world with a readymade when he submitted a men's urinal to an art exhibition in New York and called it "Fountain."
Though Duchamp detested the idea of his art being turned into a commercial product, several of his pieces have fetched significant prices at auction. His perfume bottle "Belle haleine-eau de voilette" sold in February for $11.4 million at a Christie's auction in Paris of the estate of fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent, 10 times its estimated sale price.
Francis M. Naumann, owner of the Francis M. Naumann Fine Art gallery, which has sold many Duchamp pieces, says despite the recent record sale, Duchamp's work is not easy to sell.
"Ninety-nine point nine percent of works of art are meant to just be appreciated aesthetically," says Mr. Naumann. "With Duchamp, there's no choice but to penetrate about two inches behind the eyeballs into the brain."
Old Man Peanut!
00:14:11 You get it together, you cunt. You hear me? Hey? Get it to-fucking-gether. We can't have this. You was a fucking disgrace last night. Inept. Tonight, the kid gloves are off. Show some fucking backbone. You're a man. Fucking act like one!
00:14:49 Free from fucking bondage, you cunt!
- Yeah, you're right, Pop.
Fucking right, I'm right. Fucking right, I'm fucking right. It's the strong who shall inherit the earth, not the fucking weak.
- Yeah, you tell him.
Not the fucking weak!
00:15:38 Late? No such fucking word. And I'll tell you this, if Brighton Billy - God rest his tortured soul - had ever caught anyone being late, he would've cut their eyelids off, stuck 'em in a fucking sack with a snake, a cockerel, and a dog, and chucked 'em in the fucking sea.
- Charming.
That was how it was. And believe you me, once he'd made up his mind, that was it. That was it. Nothing could sway him, nothing. No surrender. Immovable, he was, immovable! A mountain. A fucking colossus.
00:35:32 ... No, it's not that cunt I'm thinking of. It was that other cunt, the cunt with the ears; pen and inked something terrible.
- That's Dougie Clark, the human stink bomb.
I got a bone to pick with that cunt.
- You can't get close enough, though, can you?
No, not without a gas mask. ...
00:40:49 You should be proud.
- Proud?
Proud, that's what you should be, proud.
- Why?
'Cause that's what you should be.
- Proud, you fucking pilchard, proud. Have a bit of pride.
00:14:11 You get it together, you cunt. You hear me? Hey? Get it to-fucking-gether. We can't have this. You was a fucking disgrace last night. Inept. Tonight, the kid gloves are off. Show some fucking backbone. You're a man. Fucking act like one!
00:14:49 Free from fucking bondage, you cunt!
- Yeah, you're right, Pop.
Fucking right, I'm right. Fucking right, I'm fucking right. It's the strong who shall inherit the earth, not the fucking weak.
- Yeah, you tell him.
Not the fucking weak!
00:15:38 Late? No such fucking word. And I'll tell you this, if Brighton Billy - God rest his tortured soul - had ever caught anyone being late, he would've cut their eyelids off, stuck 'em in a fucking sack with a snake, a cockerel, and a dog, and chucked 'em in the fucking sea.
- Charming.
That was how it was. And believe you me, once he'd made up his mind, that was it. That was it. Nothing could sway him, nothing. No surrender. Immovable, he was, immovable! A mountain. A fucking colossus.
00:35:32 ... No, it's not that cunt I'm thinking of. It was that other cunt, the cunt with the ears; pen and inked something terrible.
- That's Dougie Clark, the human stink bomb.
I got a bone to pick with that cunt.
- You can't get close enough, though, can you?
No, not without a gas mask. ...
00:40:49 You should be proud.
- Proud?
Proud, that's what you should be, proud.
- Why?
'Cause that's what you should be.
- Proud, you fucking pilchard, proud. Have a bit of pride.
... A copy was made from my original apartment key, then a copy was made from
that copy. This process was repeated until the original keys information was
destroyed, resulting in the topography of a generation.
Ta much, dear MSiegel
... The destruction of healthy soil by compaction, overgrazing and toxic levels of manure that poison the earth and emit climate-warming methane are some of the reasons raising livestock has traditionally been discouraged as an environmentally conscious farming technique.
But Savory was not impressed by environmentalists' arguments, nor by the efforts of commercial seed companies to engineer genetically modified crops to be drought-resistant. "Any scientist can grow green plants with technology," he said. What was unsustainable was "to be growing more green plants on soil that is failing us."
The technique Savory devised does not simply rotate the herds from one nearby plot of land to another but couples their migration with military precision.
Key to the procedure, he said, was to protect the animals from predators at night while continuing to move the herd during the day, as if they were being followed by lions and other stalkers. By doing so, his herding teams can recreate some of the environmental patterns that existed before human communities domesticated the animals and concentrated their distribution.
The technique calls for controlling the herd's movements with great timing. Savory adapted his techniques of command and control from the British Army. All of this, he said, was to ensure that the animals be "in the right place at the right time, for the right reasons and the right behavior," so that they do not overwhelm the vegetation.
It may sound like a nutty idea to some, but Savory's before-and-after results presented graphic proof that it can work....
Ta much, dear Ar0cketman
But Savory was not impressed by environmentalists' arguments, nor by the efforts of commercial seed companies to engineer genetically modified crops to be drought-resistant. "Any scientist can grow green plants with technology," he said. What was unsustainable was "to be growing more green plants on soil that is failing us."
The technique Savory devised does not simply rotate the herds from one nearby plot of land to another but couples their migration with military precision.
Key to the procedure, he said, was to protect the animals from predators at night while continuing to move the herd during the day, as if they were being followed by lions and other stalkers. By doing so, his herding teams can recreate some of the environmental patterns that existed before human communities domesticated the animals and concentrated their distribution.
The technique calls for controlling the herd's movements with great timing. Savory adapted his techniques of command and control from the British Army. All of this, he said, was to ensure that the animals be "in the right place at the right time, for the right reasons and the right behavior," so that they do not overwhelm the vegetation.
It may sound like a nutty idea to some, but Savory's before-and-after results presented graphic proof that it can work....
Ta much, dear Ar0cketman
All images are links.
...Nonetheless, the impression of Herzog's movies coming laden with gloom persists. The New York Times's Janet Maslin described Herzog as "the consummate master of doom". ("I think Janet Maslin is the consummate master of doom!" giggles Herzog undoomily.)
Yet his films are more aptly described as cheerfully nihilistic. Repeatedly, they suggest that although we are alone in a disinterested universe, glory is possible. They celebrate the grandeur of follies, those who dare to do what few would dare to dream, whether its dragging a boat over a mountain (Fitzcarraldo), flying in a balloon over the rainforest (The White Diamond) or diving into unexplored rock crevices (Cave of Forgotten Dreams.) That Herzog himself does all of those things to make his movies has often been taken as proof that he, like his characters, is an egomaniacal daredevil.
But the aim of his films, he says, is "the illumination of something that is beyond sheer facts", what the New Yorker described as "the ecstatic truth". Does he experience that illumination when he is making his films? "Yes, I sometimes feel like the little girl in a fairytale," says the 68-year-old. "She steps out into the night sky and golden stars fall into her apron. These moments, when you have that shudder of something falling into your lap and you don't know how it happened – that happens."
Werner Herzog Stipetic was born in Munich in 1942. Was he wild as a boy? For the first time Herzog looks tired: "Well, we didn't have fathers around – I was not alone in that."
He was 11 the first time he saw a movie, but it was hardly a moment of ecstatic illumination: "It was about Eskimos building an igloo. It was not convincing enough for me," he chuckles.
Despite the unconvincing Eskimos, Herzog worked hard to become a film-maker, doing all manner of jobs to raise funds, including, according to legend, gun-running in Mexico. He broke through with the 1968 film, Signs of Life, for which he won a Silver Bear at the Berlin Film Festival.
The New Yorker magazine claimed that Herzog's "brooding world view" was informed by the "disaster of nazism". The psychobabble causes Herzog much mirth: "Too obvious. The universe is not harmonious: you know that by looking outside. It has nothing to do with Nazis." But growing up in what he calls "the echo of nazism" has affected his work. He is currently mid-production on a documentary about death row: "Because I am German, I cannot be an advocate of capital punishment," he says. "A state should never be allowed to decide about life or death. It's a core principle that cannot be shaken within me." ...
... Herzog is known for making films that are near impossible to make. But, as he explains in the documentary Burden of Dreams, abandoning a film because it presents difficulties would be akin to living "a life as a man without dreams". And just as the heroes of his films achieve their dreams, the audience also watches Herzog, with his moral seriousness, absolute determination and great good humour, achieve his. This is what makes his films the opposite of gloomy; they are pure triumphant pleasure.
"Every man," he says thoughtfully. "should pull a boat over a mountain once in his life." And then, once again, he laughs at himself.
Yet his films are more aptly described as cheerfully nihilistic. Repeatedly, they suggest that although we are alone in a disinterested universe, glory is possible. They celebrate the grandeur of follies, those who dare to do what few would dare to dream, whether its dragging a boat over a mountain (Fitzcarraldo), flying in a balloon over the rainforest (The White Diamond) or diving into unexplored rock crevices (Cave of Forgotten Dreams.) That Herzog himself does all of those things to make his movies has often been taken as proof that he, like his characters, is an egomaniacal daredevil.
But the aim of his films, he says, is "the illumination of something that is beyond sheer facts", what the New Yorker described as "the ecstatic truth". Does he experience that illumination when he is making his films? "Yes, I sometimes feel like the little girl in a fairytale," says the 68-year-old. "She steps out into the night sky and golden stars fall into her apron. These moments, when you have that shudder of something falling into your lap and you don't know how it happened – that happens."
Werner Herzog Stipetic was born in Munich in 1942. Was he wild as a boy? For the first time Herzog looks tired: "Well, we didn't have fathers around – I was not alone in that."
He was 11 the first time he saw a movie, but it was hardly a moment of ecstatic illumination: "It was about Eskimos building an igloo. It was not convincing enough for me," he chuckles.
Despite the unconvincing Eskimos, Herzog worked hard to become a film-maker, doing all manner of jobs to raise funds, including, according to legend, gun-running in Mexico. He broke through with the 1968 film, Signs of Life, for which he won a Silver Bear at the Berlin Film Festival.
The New Yorker magazine claimed that Herzog's "brooding world view" was informed by the "disaster of nazism". The psychobabble causes Herzog much mirth: "Too obvious. The universe is not harmonious: you know that by looking outside. It has nothing to do with Nazis." But growing up in what he calls "the echo of nazism" has affected his work. He is currently mid-production on a documentary about death row: "Because I am German, I cannot be an advocate of capital punishment," he says. "A state should never be allowed to decide about life or death. It's a core principle that cannot be shaken within me." ...
... Herzog is known for making films that are near impossible to make. But, as he explains in the documentary Burden of Dreams, abandoning a film because it presents difficulties would be akin to living "a life as a man without dreams". And just as the heroes of his films achieve their dreams, the audience also watches Herzog, with his moral seriousness, absolute determination and great good humour, achieve his. This is what makes his films the opposite of gloomy; they are pure triumphant pleasure.
"Every man," he says thoughtfully. "should pull a boat over a mountain once in his life." And then, once again, he laughs at himself.
The Flowers of Romance
Public Image LTD
Now in the summer
I could be happy or in distress
Depending on the company
On the veranda
Talk of the future or reminisce
Behind the dialogue
We're in a mess
Whatever I intended
I sent you flowers
You wanted chocolates instead
The flowers of romance
The flowers of romance
I've got binoculars
On top of Box Hill
I could be Nero
Fly the eagle
Start all over again
I can't depend on these so-called friends
It's a pity you need to defend
I'll take the furniture
Start all over again
From Flowers of Romance; 1981
Public Image LTD
I could be happy or in distress
Depending on the company
On the veranda
Talk of the future or reminisce
Behind the dialogue
We're in a mess
Whatever I intended
I sent you flowers
You wanted chocolates instead
The flowers of romance
The flowers of romance
I've got binoculars
On top of Box Hill
I could be Nero
Fly the eagle
Start all over again
I can't depend on these so-called friends
It's a pity you need to defend
I'll take the furniture
Start all over again
From Flowers of Romance; 1981
see more Political Pictures
The same sort of people who are afraid of a woman whose bare hair and face are in the sunlight, that's who.
Amen, Sister!
May 2, 2010
The Gospel of Well-Educated Guessing
By Tom Bartlett
... Mr. Mahajan, 41, is bespectacled and boyish despite a smattering of gray hair. A physicist by training, he's associate director of MIT's Teaching and Learning Laboratory and sort of floats between departments. His affinity for math extends to childhood. When he was a toddler, he informed his parents, correctly, that a heating coil on the ceiling was a hexagon. In first grade, he told his teacher he wanted to be a mathematician when he grew up. The teacher cheerfully announced to the class: "Sanjoy wants to be a magician!" ...
...I decided to see how he'd cope with an unfamiliar quandary. How much, I asked him, is the annual state budget of Delaware? He didn't know the state's population, but he knew that California has about 40 million people and, creatively applying Zipf's law, a statistical observation from which it can be asserted that the largest city is twice the size of the second-largest, he determined that Delaware has about a million people.
It's actually 885,122. So far, so good.
He then assumed that everyone makes $50,000 a year. Some make more, no doubt, and some don't make anything, but this seemed reasonable. He further assumed that the state income tax is 5 percent, the same as in his home state, Massachusetts. He wasn't sure that Delaware has an income tax (it does) but figured that, even if it didn't, revenues from sales taxes would probably be equivalent.
Final answer: $2.5-billion. The actual number for the 2010 fiscal year is $3-billion. For comparison purposes, the budget of neighboring Pennsylvania is $29-billion.
Not bad at all.
A few years ago, Mr. Mahajan became a friend of Jeff Schmidt, a former editor of Physics Today, who sued that publication after he was fired and got an undisclosed settlement. When a reporter asked Mr. Mahajan to estimate the size of the settlement, he came up with $500,000—assuming that, with back pay and damages, Mr. Schmidt would have asked for around a million and settled for half.
The lawyers for the company that owns Physics Today accused Mr. Schmidt of revealing the figure to Mr. Mahajan—which Mr. Schmidt said wasn't true. "They didn't know he was one of the world's experts in estimation," he told me, adding that getting to know Mr. Mahajan was "almost worth getting fired."
I attended one of Mr. Mahajan's classes recently. Afterward I asked him for advice about getting back to the airport. He suggested that I walk across the campus, take the subway, get off three stops later, and wait for a shuttle. Once I did that, printed my boarding pass, and made it through security, Mr. Mahajan estimated, I'd arrive at the gate at 4 p.m.
When I did make it to my gate, I checked the time: 3:54. Close enough.
The Gospel of Well-Educated Guessing
By Tom Bartlett
... Mr. Mahajan, 41, is bespectacled and boyish despite a smattering of gray hair. A physicist by training, he's associate director of MIT's Teaching and Learning Laboratory and sort of floats between departments. His affinity for math extends to childhood. When he was a toddler, he informed his parents, correctly, that a heating coil on the ceiling was a hexagon. In first grade, he told his teacher he wanted to be a mathematician when he grew up. The teacher cheerfully announced to the class: "Sanjoy wants to be a magician!" ...
...I decided to see how he'd cope with an unfamiliar quandary. How much, I asked him, is the annual state budget of Delaware? He didn't know the state's population, but he knew that California has about 40 million people and, creatively applying Zipf's law, a statistical observation from which it can be asserted that the largest city is twice the size of the second-largest, he determined that Delaware has about a million people.
It's actually 885,122. So far, so good.
He then assumed that everyone makes $50,000 a year. Some make more, no doubt, and some don't make anything, but this seemed reasonable. He further assumed that the state income tax is 5 percent, the same as in his home state, Massachusetts. He wasn't sure that Delaware has an income tax (it does) but figured that, even if it didn't, revenues from sales taxes would probably be equivalent.
Final answer: $2.5-billion. The actual number for the 2010 fiscal year is $3-billion. For comparison purposes, the budget of neighboring Pennsylvania is $29-billion.
Not bad at all.
A few years ago, Mr. Mahajan became a friend of Jeff Schmidt, a former editor of Physics Today, who sued that publication after he was fired and got an undisclosed settlement. When a reporter asked Mr. Mahajan to estimate the size of the settlement, he came up with $500,000—assuming that, with back pay and damages, Mr. Schmidt would have asked for around a million and settled for half.
The lawyers for the company that owns Physics Today accused Mr. Schmidt of revealing the figure to Mr. Mahajan—which Mr. Schmidt said wasn't true. "They didn't know he was one of the world's experts in estimation," he told me, adding that getting to know Mr. Mahajan was "almost worth getting fired."
I attended one of Mr. Mahajan's classes recently. Afterward I asked him for advice about getting back to the airport. He suggested that I walk across the campus, take the subway, get off three stops later, and wait for a shuttle. Once I did that, printed my boarding pass, and made it through security, Mr. Mahajan estimated, I'd arrive at the gate at 4 p.m.
When I did make it to my gate, I checked the time: 3:54. Close enough.
April 12, 2010
I’m not worth £213,000. This wage bill is mad
My Micawber Plan will help to cut Britain’s debt by freezing public sector pay, starting with those at the top
Norman Bettison
... Something else happened in the 1980s. The idea took hold that public sector organisations had to compete in the market place for senior managers. NHS chief executives were the first “growth” industry that I remember. ...
... The only secure ground for any senior public servant in this angry debate is the argument of relative values. The whole public sector is caught by this dilemma and so the remuneration of one individual needs to be judged against those relativities. If you took me out and shot me in a revolutionary uprising, it would still cost the taxpayer £163k, plus 24 per cent pension contribution to replace me — the official, relative, rate.
So what are we going to do about this untenable situation? The debt burden of the public sector is 56 per cent of GDP and, if unchecked, is forecast to rise to more than 75 per cent in three years’ time.
That’s what makes this uncharted territory for the public sector. Delaying action, or trimming staff numbers, just won’t sort it. We need a more fundamental wage bill correction. None of the main political parties is presenting a solution . . . yet. With 6.1 million voters employed in the public sector, should we be surprised at this silence?
I should like to see economic modelling of the deceleration rate required in public sector pay bills to respond to the financial reality that faces the country, and a speedy, if painful, application of the brake. I’d call it The Micawber Plan.
If a plan was introduced to freeze public sector pay and pension entitlement, incrementally — the whole sector mind, no exclusions or special pleading. And if that freeze started with the highest paid 25 per cent first, followed, in succeeding years, by the second, and then the third, quarters of earners. Then, three years from now, we would have smaller differentials in public sector pay and would have made a huge dent in the debt burden. This, coupled with the impact of the removal of all tax allowances and the imposition of a 50p in the pound tax rate for higher earners, might do the trick and sustain public services.
I’m not worth £213,000. This wage bill is mad
My Micawber Plan will help to cut Britain’s debt by freezing public sector pay, starting with those at the top
Norman Bettison
... Something else happened in the 1980s. The idea took hold that public sector organisations had to compete in the market place for senior managers. NHS chief executives were the first “growth” industry that I remember. ...
... The only secure ground for any senior public servant in this angry debate is the argument of relative values. The whole public sector is caught by this dilemma and so the remuneration of one individual needs to be judged against those relativities. If you took me out and shot me in a revolutionary uprising, it would still cost the taxpayer £163k, plus 24 per cent pension contribution to replace me — the official, relative, rate.
So what are we going to do about this untenable situation? The debt burden of the public sector is 56 per cent of GDP and, if unchecked, is forecast to rise to more than 75 per cent in three years’ time.
That’s what makes this uncharted territory for the public sector. Delaying action, or trimming staff numbers, just won’t sort it. We need a more fundamental wage bill correction. None of the main political parties is presenting a solution . . . yet. With 6.1 million voters employed in the public sector, should we be surprised at this silence?
I should like to see economic modelling of the deceleration rate required in public sector pay bills to respond to the financial reality that faces the country, and a speedy, if painful, application of the brake. I’d call it The Micawber Plan.
If a plan was introduced to freeze public sector pay and pension entitlement, incrementally — the whole sector mind, no exclusions or special pleading. And if that freeze started with the highest paid 25 per cent first, followed, in succeeding years, by the second, and then the third, quarters of earners. Then, three years from now, we would have smaller differentials in public sector pay and would have made a huge dent in the debt burden. This, coupled with the impact of the removal of all tax allowances and the imposition of a 50p in the pound tax rate for higher earners, might do the trick and sustain public services.
Nano-sized magnetic particles that can be guided to tumours and heated up to kill cancerous cells could offer hope to patients with forms of the disease currently considered incurable.
The tiny iron oxide particles are essentially “cooked” using a magnetic heating wand that is waved over the affected area. Scientists say the technique would be painless and could even be administered in GP surgeries or outpatient clinics.
“There has been virtually no improvement in survival rates for lung cancer in the last three decades,” said Dr Sam Janes, of the Centre for Respiratory Research at University College London who is co-leading the research. “We’re aiming to target these cancers for which chemotherapy has failed.”
Unlike conventional untargeted treatments, the nanoparticles can be directed exclusively toward the affected cells either by using external magnets, or by attaching the particles to “cancer-seeking” biological agents such as antibodies. Once the nanoparticles are in place in the tumour, they can be heated, killing any cells in their vicinity. ...
The tiny iron oxide particles are essentially “cooked” using a magnetic heating wand that is waved over the affected area. Scientists say the technique would be painless and could even be administered in GP surgeries or outpatient clinics.
“There has been virtually no improvement in survival rates for lung cancer in the last three decades,” said Dr Sam Janes, of the Centre for Respiratory Research at University College London who is co-leading the research. “We’re aiming to target these cancers for which chemotherapy has failed.”
Unlike conventional untargeted treatments, the nanoparticles can be directed exclusively toward the affected cells either by using external magnets, or by attaching the particles to “cancer-seeking” biological agents such as antibodies. Once the nanoparticles are in place in the tumour, they can be heated, killing any cells in their vicinity. ...
You can have Mango!
... Erdös threw himself into mathematics more completely than ever before. He began taking pills, lots of them. He started with anti-depressants and then moved on to amphetamines. Whenever he met children—epsilons—Erdös liked to amuse them with a trick. He would fish a bottle of Benzedrine out of his pocket, throw it up in the air and catch it at the last possible moment.
Erdös's drug use worried his friends. Once Ron Graham tried to get him to quit by betting him five hundred dollars that he could not stop taking pills for a month. Erdös went cold-turkey for a month. Accepting Graham's check he said: "You've showed me I'm not an addict. But I didn't get any work done. I'd get up in the morning and stare at a blank piece of paper. I'd have no ideas, just like an ordinary person. You've set mathematics back a month." He began taking amphetamines again and mathematics once more progressed at his frenetic pace. ...
Erdös's drug use worried his friends. Once Ron Graham tried to get him to quit by betting him five hundred dollars that he could not stop taking pills for a month. Erdös went cold-turkey for a month. Accepting Graham's check he said: "You've showed me I'm not an addict. But I didn't get any work done. I'd get up in the morning and stare at a blank piece of paper. I'd have no ideas, just like an ordinary person. You've set mathematics back a month." He began taking amphetamines again and mathematics once more progressed at his frenetic pace. ...
Organic Computing
Open source computing and organic, sustainable gardening are natural partners. We hope to bring those concepts together to free both our computers and our food from huge corporations.
Open source computing and organic, sustainable gardening are natural partners. We hope to bring those concepts together to free both our computers and our food from huge corporations.
... America can use this silly fascination with Gov. Palin's wardrobe as an opportunity to help some of our neighbors. When George Bush started to attack our freedom to decide what is good for our bodies, Patt Morrison developed an ingenious plan: donate to Planned Parenthood in George Bush's name. So, with a nod to Ms. Morrison, I suggest that everyone immediately donate your extra clothes to charity and ask the charity to send a thank you note to Sen. McCain. Real Simple magazine has a nice list of charities...
Sen. McCain, I hope you can find a way to show that you know that Gov. Palin does not "need" more clothes but that millions of working poor Americans do have serious needs. Will you consider matching all of the donations made in your name?
Sen. McCain, I hope you can find a way to show that you know that Gov. Palin does not "need" more clothes but that millions of working poor Americans do have serious needs. Will you consider matching all of the donations made in your name?
12-year-old boy enrolls in NCU
Sunday | August 27, 2006
Twelve-year-old student of Northern Caribbean University, Kevin Rolle (left) meets the institution's president, Dr. Herbert Thompson recently. - Contributed
So, it's just days away from the new school year and lots of parents are gearing up to ready their young teens for high school.
What if your child, at 12, was entering university? That's what Joan Rolle, the mother of Kevin Rolle, has to contend with right now. ...
...Kevin is enrolled at the Northern Caribbean University (NCU), and from all accounts, seems to be the youngest person ever to enroll in university in Jamaica. Kevin, a Bahamian, begins his first degree majoring in theology with a minor in criminal law in September. The so-called child prodigy said after one year of high school, he got bored, and realised he just had to take on something more challenging.
"High school was very boring. The sort of stuff they were doing, I'd already passed. My mom had taught me from an early age, so it was like at the age of nine or so, I did the stuff I'm now learning in grade seven," he related. "Normally, the teacher would give me something different from the other children, although sometimes it would still be something that I had already learnt."
Kevin said from the time he was in elementary school, he realised that he was way ahead of the students in his class, and so it did not take long for him to decide that maybe he should try university.
"It was in my head for a long time. I have been a 4.0 grade point average student all of my life. And although I am a little young, I know that I can handle going off to college," ...
... When he finally convinced his mother, everything fell in place quickly. ...Kevin decided to apply to the Northern Caribbean University (NCU). He was accepted to study and as they say, the rest is history. He said he did not need his high school diploma to apply to the university, because he did exceptionally well on his SAT exam. "I took my SAT exam and got a score of 970. So, my mother and I sent in an application to the university, along with a profile. A month or so later, they sent me an acceptance letter," he explained. ...
This is one who should have a full scholarship, no questions asked! Hell, they oughta pay him to go there and take him out to lunch.
Maybe he'll drop the theology and law and use his powers for good.
Did I say that aloud? Oh dear.
Sunday | August 27, 2006
Twelve-year-old student of Northern Caribbean University, Kevin Rolle (left) meets the institution's president, Dr. Herbert Thompson recently. - Contributed
So, it's just days away from the new school year and lots of parents are gearing up to ready their young teens for high school.
What if your child, at 12, was entering university? That's what Joan Rolle, the mother of Kevin Rolle, has to contend with right now. ...
...Kevin is enrolled at the Northern Caribbean University (NCU), and from all accounts, seems to be the youngest person ever to enroll in university in Jamaica. Kevin, a Bahamian, begins his first degree majoring in theology with a minor in criminal law in September. The so-called child prodigy said after one year of high school, he got bored, and realised he just had to take on something more challenging.
"High school was very boring. The sort of stuff they were doing, I'd already passed. My mom had taught me from an early age, so it was like at the age of nine or so, I did the stuff I'm now learning in grade seven," he related. "Normally, the teacher would give me something different from the other children, although sometimes it would still be something that I had already learnt."
Kevin said from the time he was in elementary school, he realised that he was way ahead of the students in his class, and so it did not take long for him to decide that maybe he should try university.
"It was in my head for a long time. I have been a 4.0 grade point average student all of my life. And although I am a little young, I know that I can handle going off to college," ...
... When he finally convinced his mother, everything fell in place quickly. ...Kevin decided to apply to the Northern Caribbean University (NCU). He was accepted to study and as they say, the rest is history. He said he did not need his high school diploma to apply to the university, because he did exceptionally well on his SAT exam. "I took my SAT exam and got a score of 970. So, my mother and I sent in an application to the university, along with a profile. A month or so later, they sent me an acceptance letter," he explained. ...
This is one who should have a full scholarship, no questions asked! Hell, they oughta pay him to go there and take him out to lunch.
Maybe he'll drop the theology and law and use his powers for good.
Did I say that aloud? Oh dear.
Mmmmmmmmmm
The Fall
The Fall
The man was a gentle genius
Very useful article
Mmmmmmm Residents!
Great short story by a wonderful author
Trying to bolt out of
Trying to get over
Operation mind fuck
"I do not like your tone.
It has ephemeral whinging aspects."
It's a curse. I am not unguilty of using it.
Waiting for you to f....
Trying to get out of
Tryna get out of
Waiting
They are waiting for you, bitterly, for you to fall over.
It's a curse.
I only have this excerpt-ah from It's a Curse-ah; off The Infotainment-ah Scan, a fabulous disc-ah.
Trying to get over
Operation mind fuck
"I do not like your tone.
It has ephemeral whinging aspects."
It's a curse. I am not unguilty of using it.
Waiting for you to f....
Trying to get out of
Tryna get out of
Waiting
They are waiting for you, bitterly, for you to fall over.
It's a curse.
I only have this excerpt-ah from It's a Curse-ah; off The Infotainment-ah Scan, a fabulous disc-ah.