Wednesday, May 24, 2006
True American Idol
I pity anyone in my town who stayed home to watch a silly singing contest on television tonight, while Tony Bennett was downtown blowing the roof off the Meyerson. One of the best, most memorable musical performances I've ever seen, or ever will.
UPDATE: My super-brief "review" on FrontBurner.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Monday, May 15, 2006
GE One Second Theater
Not sure how long this has been going on, but I noticed an episode flash by for the first time tonight. I can imagine this barely-liminal conduit being exploited in many ways.
Dream Last Night
I was in a windowless stateroom on a train car, with a definite, occasionally jostled sensation of forward motion. My clothes and other personal effects were more or less casually strewn around the room, as if I'd been there awhile. I was standing facing the direction of movement, when I suddenly became aware of a giant "hole" in the right wall of the train that I'd previously taken for a closet.
Looking through that hole I saw into another stateroom, on another train, parallel and immediately adjacent to the one I was on, and through that train into another one, and another one, and another, infinitely. I was essentially looking into an endless tunnel, the "walls" of which were the interiors of these successively pierced staterooms. All the trains were moving forward at the same rate, as if joined together, with no space between them. The trains were not "fused" together, however. If anything, they seemed "linked." There was an occasional jostling sensation that would ripple up and down the tunnel, as if one of the trains were occasionally hitting a bumpy section of track, etc.
I saw no people other than myself, and wasn't otherwise aware of any other people. The only sound was the sound of trains on tracks.
It occurred to me (in the dream) that if the trains stretched out infinitely in that direction, there was no room for a "world" out there--no grass or trees or mountains—just trains.
I never turned around, or looked over my shoulder, to see if trains stretched out similarly from the left side of my own train (or even to see if there was a hole there).
I stepped back from the hole and realized it was as high as the train itself, and very wide, and oddly shaped around its edge. The entire tunnel stretching off into the distance had this same irregular shape (i.e., every successive hole through every successive train wall had this same shape).
I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I realized a train was coming toward me, through the tunnel, through the other trains, perpendicular to them. I realized that the outline edge of the holes (and thus the tunnel) was exactly "train shaped."
I figured I'd better clear away my clothes and other items from the path of the train that was about to pass through my stateroom. I began to gather things up here and there, but I wasn't fast enough. An old-fashioned black locomotive barreled into the room.
That was the end.
I keep wondering if there was a hole in the left side of my stateroom, for that train to continue through.
Looking through that hole I saw into another stateroom, on another train, parallel and immediately adjacent to the one I was on, and through that train into another one, and another one, and another, infinitely. I was essentially looking into an endless tunnel, the "walls" of which were the interiors of these successively pierced staterooms. All the trains were moving forward at the same rate, as if joined together, with no space between them. The trains were not "fused" together, however. If anything, they seemed "linked." There was an occasional jostling sensation that would ripple up and down the tunnel, as if one of the trains were occasionally hitting a bumpy section of track, etc.
I saw no people other than myself, and wasn't otherwise aware of any other people. The only sound was the sound of trains on tracks.
It occurred to me (in the dream) that if the trains stretched out infinitely in that direction, there was no room for a "world" out there--no grass or trees or mountains—just trains.
I never turned around, or looked over my shoulder, to see if trains stretched out similarly from the left side of my own train (or even to see if there was a hole there).
I stepped back from the hole and realized it was as high as the train itself, and very wide, and oddly shaped around its edge. The entire tunnel stretching off into the distance had this same irregular shape (i.e., every successive hole through every successive train wall had this same shape).
I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I realized a train was coming toward me, through the tunnel, through the other trains, perpendicular to them. I realized that the outline edge of the holes (and thus the tunnel) was exactly "train shaped."
I figured I'd better clear away my clothes and other items from the path of the train that was about to pass through my stateroom. I began to gather things up here and there, but I wasn't fast enough. An old-fashioned black locomotive barreled into the room.
That was the end.
I keep wondering if there was a hole in the left side of my stateroom, for that train to continue through.
The Future of Books
Great piece from Kevin Kelly in yesterday's NYT Magazine.
I note that the article illustration (above, Abelardo Morell / Bonni Benrubi Gallery for the NY Times), previously appeared on the 1997 paperback cover of Nicholson Baker's excellent essay collection, The Size of Thoughts. Are there really so few good pictures of books available?
I note that the article illustration (above, Abelardo Morell / Bonni Benrubi Gallery for the NY Times), previously appeared on the 1997 paperback cover of Nicholson Baker's excellent essay collection, The Size of Thoughts. Are there really so few good pictures of books available?
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Cafe Istanbul
If you haven't tried it, try it. Excellent food, excellent atmosphere. I remain consistently fond of the Doner Durum (No. 11 on the menu). Super babaganush. Dine outside on the quietly breezy, awninged sidewalk patio, or watch the bellydancer inside (Friday and Saturday nights) for a more lively time. Right around the corner from the Inwood Theater. Great strolling destination after a film.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Amanita Design
If you've ever wandered around the Polyphonic Spree site, you may have already seen a cousin of the Samorost flash games. Interactive art that promotes context-awareness and intuition-driven problem solving. Beautifully satisfying and soothing. Play them.
Check out the Amanita animation clips, too. (Sorry, no direct URLs.)
Check out the Amanita animation clips, too. (Sorry, no direct URLs.)
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Visit to Another Planet
Had occasion to visit a $28M home tonight. No, I wasn’t bartending. Less than 2 miles from my front door, but it might as well have been Versailles—or Venus. Truly staggering opulence.
The annual property taxes for the place are comparable to the market value of my house.
It was easily the most expensive current, full-time residence I’ve ever been inside—the only two exceptions I can think of being the White House and Blenheim Palace.
The pool house alone was a Fitzgerald or Cheever story brought to life.
Earlier in the day, I’d been haggling over a $100 line item with my contractor. Imagine how silly I felt about it, strolling around that jaw-dropping castle. A C-note probably wouldn’t get me a switchplate in that joint.
The annual property taxes for the place are comparable to the market value of my house.
It was easily the most expensive current, full-time residence I’ve ever been inside—the only two exceptions I can think of being the White House and Blenheim Palace.
The pool house alone was a Fitzgerald or Cheever story brought to life.
Earlier in the day, I’d been haggling over a $100 line item with my contractor. Imagine how silly I felt about it, strolling around that jaw-dropping castle. A C-note probably wouldn’t get me a switchplate in that joint.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
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