saw memento this weekend
someone here liked this movie?
i left feeling paranoid and annoyed.
can someone tell me what the ending was all about please?
someone here liked this movie?
i left feeling paranoid and annoyed.
can someone tell me what the ending was all about please?
On May 26, 1976 — just 25 years ago — a group of unknown California wines went up against a battery of France's best at a blind tasting in Paris — and won the day.
Totally.
The nine judges, all French experts, were outraged. Some even tried to change their decisions. They couldn't, but what did change was the future of the American wine business. There are 1,600 commercial wineries in the United States, a number that has tripled since the tasting.
American winemakers had long believed they could take on the French; it took a young English wine merchant based in Paris, Steven Spurrier, who arranged the event, to show them they were right.
The best red: a Stag's Leap Wine Cellars cabernet; the best white, a Chateau Montelena chardonnay. Both were Napa Valley wines.
To prove his enthusiasm had not been misplaced, Mr. Spurrier held the same tasting, with only the red wines, 10 years later. The Americans won again. FRANK J. PRIAL
Totally.
The nine judges, all French experts, were outraged. Some even tried to change their decisions. They couldn't, but what did change was the future of the American wine business. There are 1,600 commercial wineries in the United States, a number that has tripled since the tasting.
American winemakers had long believed they could take on the French; it took a young English wine merchant based in Paris, Steven Spurrier, who arranged the event, to show them they were right.
The best red: a Stag's Leap Wine Cellars cabernet; the best white, a Chateau Montelena chardonnay. Both were Napa Valley wines.
To prove his enthusiasm had not been misplaced, Mr. Spurrier held the same tasting, with only the red wines, 10 years later. The Americans won again. FRANK J. PRIAL
It would seem unlikely that I could see anything here, regarding flicks, that hasn't been seen first in NY but I think this may be the case with the "one week only" showing of The Dish which I saw a few weeks ago with Magee when he was in town for Jazzfest. Its a fictionalized true story about the satelitte dish relay station in Parks, Australia that was integral in beaming the video signal for the first moon walk. Good wholesome fun. Ya'll check it out, I mean if it ever gets to the backwaters of Manhattan. " I scooped 'em ma, I scooped the big city boys and girls." Of course it may have passed your way last year which would account for why I see no mention of it in Nyker.
is-wine is a new wine store in an east village half-a-store-front on 5th street between 2nd & Cooper Sq. Almost feels like you're walking into someone's apartment. Nice guys who seem knowledgeable (not that I'm the best judge.) And they're tasting every Saturday afternoon (but that's not why I stopped in, honest, I just wanted to get the report.) Anyway, I think it's notable because it is in the east village which is pretty much devoid of places to buy wine. And even better than that - they deliver. Tell them what you're eating and they'll bring over some bottles. 212 254 7800. Hmmmm.
Can anyone report on seeing Lorette Velvette and Mo Tucker backed by the Work Dogs last night at Tonic? Heard Lou was there too.
To anyone, or Tom Moody is who I thought of last night reading myself to sleep at Rocheblave. The artwork featuring a coke bottle on the page opposite the short story title page in the latest (28th?) New Yorker had me so totally holy cow wow-weeed, and for other than just the obvious salacious reasons. Who that is, the artist? Someone please feel free to scan and post, huh.
"The time has arrived! Glen Jones has begun the most difficult stunt of his life: breaking the Guinness World Record for Longest Radio Program. In order to break this record, Jones must stay awake and continue broadcasting for 73 hour and 33 minutes straight! The spectacle began today, May 25th at 9am and will culminate Monday morning at 10:33am, when Jones breaks the record! All normal programs and audio archives will be suspended from now until Tuesday 5/29 to allow for this historic event. More info, and a live web video feed here. We also need volunteers to be official observers! If you can help, please e-mail Scott@wfmu.org".
In protest of George W. Bush's energy policies and lack of emphasis on efficiency, conservation and alternative fuels, there will be a voluntary rolling blackout on the first day of Summer, June 21 at 7 p.m. - 10 p.m. in any time zone (this will roll it across the planet). It's a simple protest and a symbolic act. Turn out your lights from 7 p.m. until 10 p.m. (your local time) on June 21. Unplug whatever you can unplug in your house. Light a candle for the Sun, kiss, make love, play games, tell ghost stories, do something instead of watching television, have fun in the dark. Forward this email as widely as possible, to your government representatives and environmental contacts. Let them know we want global education, participation and funding in conservation, efficiency and alternative energy efforts -- and an end to over exploitation and misuse of the Earth's resources.
It's Dylan's 60th, and he's everywhere, from the ridiculous to the sublime.
In my (not so humble) opinion, he is the single most significant pop culture figure of my lifetime.
I was too young for his beginnings, and too old for his comebacks, but he was always lurking somewhere on the edges of my interests. I remember trying to make a drawing in jr. high school, illustrating all the characters from Desolation Row, even as I lapped up prog-rock with my generation. In college, when the punk/new wave moment was all that mattered, I spent one of my favorite springs making minimalist sculptures while listening endlessly to Bringing It All Back Home. The late-coming accolades he's been receiving for his neo-folk act serve as confirmation of my own notions of what Traditionalism might be.
Much can be summed up in the story of All Along the Watchtower. It appeared on John Wesley Harding, the acoustic album released after the motorcycle accident, which seemed, in some ways, a step backwards. The so-called Movement, which Dylan had once fronted, had passed him by (or he had stepped aside) and the music had spawned plenty of new stars, and was splintering in many directions. The crash was coming, and Dylan, standing on the ominous yet ambiguous Watchtower, saw it on the horizon. A lot of other people didn't. One who did was Jimi Hendrix, Dylan's greatest disciple. Hendrix electrified the song, whipping its subtleties into a roar of anguish and foreboding. The Hendrix rendition became the "official" version, especially as performed for years by the Grateful Dead. Through its history, the song encapsulates the folk roots of rock, both black and white, and the transformation of that material into something more than mere entertainment. Hendrix was the ultimate product of that transformation, and his version, a testament of faith in the wounded prophet, closed the racial feedback loop of pop culture. The Dead survived the crash, and carried the achievement forward, a revelation, and a warning, to a new generation.
And it's not even one of my favorites.
Give me Mr. Tambourine Man any day.
The first psychedelic song, though similarly, it was the Byrds' version that got the message across. It's notable that they relied on something sonic, excising the lyrical culmination, which remains one of the great evocations of inspiration, from whatever source:
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind,
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's chasing.
Happy Birthday, Bob.
In my (not so humble) opinion, he is the single most significant pop culture figure of my lifetime.
I was too young for his beginnings, and too old for his comebacks, but he was always lurking somewhere on the edges of my interests. I remember trying to make a drawing in jr. high school, illustrating all the characters from Desolation Row, even as I lapped up prog-rock with my generation. In college, when the punk/new wave moment was all that mattered, I spent one of my favorite springs making minimalist sculptures while listening endlessly to Bringing It All Back Home. The late-coming accolades he's been receiving for his neo-folk act serve as confirmation of my own notions of what Traditionalism might be.
Much can be summed up in the story of All Along the Watchtower. It appeared on John Wesley Harding, the acoustic album released after the motorcycle accident, which seemed, in some ways, a step backwards. The so-called Movement, which Dylan had once fronted, had passed him by (or he had stepped aside) and the music had spawned plenty of new stars, and was splintering in many directions. The crash was coming, and Dylan, standing on the ominous yet ambiguous Watchtower, saw it on the horizon. A lot of other people didn't. One who did was Jimi Hendrix, Dylan's greatest disciple. Hendrix electrified the song, whipping its subtleties into a roar of anguish and foreboding. The Hendrix rendition became the "official" version, especially as performed for years by the Grateful Dead. Through its history, the song encapsulates the folk roots of rock, both black and white, and the transformation of that material into something more than mere entertainment. Hendrix was the ultimate product of that transformation, and his version, a testament of faith in the wounded prophet, closed the racial feedback loop of pop culture. The Dead survived the crash, and carried the achievement forward, a revelation, and a warning, to a new generation.
And it's not even one of my favorites.
Give me Mr. Tambourine Man any day.
The first psychedelic song, though similarly, it was the Byrds' version that got the message across. It's notable that they relied on something sonic, excising the lyrical culmination, which remains one of the great evocations of inspiration, from whatever source:
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind,
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's chasing.
Happy Birthday, Bob.
NYC community gardens (from the interactivist network, an ABC No Rio project.)
i great friend said one of best art shows he's ever seen is at ace gallery now
Back from Portland. They are having a record run of Chinook salmon this year. The Indians are selling it on the side of the road for $2.00 a lb. Much to the chagrin of the salmon farmers and supermarkets. The state deemed the roadside sale of salmon illegal. "So sue us" the tribes replied. Oregonians are feasting like crazy for next to nothing and the state seems to be afraid or unable to back up their claim.
We bought one and had a nice feast on the eve of my return to NYC.
The run of salmon is due to prime ocean conditions five years ago. The news is that this year and last and the year before that will be awful for the future runs.
We went to the fish ladders at Bonneville Dam and watched through observation windows as lampreys, sturgeon, coho, steelhead and chinooks make their way against the current. Hardly a fish jumps up the ladders anymore. Someone had the idea of creating channels through the steps which make swimming upriver much easier.
We bought one and had a nice feast on the eve of my return to NYC.
The run of salmon is due to prime ocean conditions five years ago. The news is that this year and last and the year before that will be awful for the future runs.
We went to the fish ladders at Bonneville Dam and watched through observation windows as lampreys, sturgeon, coho, steelhead and chinooks make their way against the current. Hardly a fish jumps up the ladders anymore. Someone had the idea of creating channels through the steps which make swimming upriver much easier.
stay free maxi mag - focussed on issues surrounding commercialism and american culture
A very sad story in the suicide of jazz singer Susannah McCorkle. I don't really follow the music, but she must have had something, because I've always remembered her, although I only heard her once. On the car radio, in Detroit, listening to Public Radio, I came upon her exquisite English-language version of Antonio Carlos Jobim's Waters of March. Still the best rendition of the song I've ever heard. A Portuguese version later got wide exposure on a Banana Republic commercial, but who knew what it was about?
We can only hope that the arrival of the Singularity will dispel the mystery of the tortured artist. Until then, listen to the music.
We can only hope that the arrival of the Singularity will dispel the mystery of the tortured artist. Until then, listen to the music.
How will you be accessing the web next year? Hint: it may not be from a fixed location.
CALDER monumental sclupture at STORMKING
"you froggin ashmole..."-- words used to hide expletives in the tv rebroadcast of Theres Something About Mary
Our friend Chuck Nanney has a show, happydeathangersexdreammachine, opening next Thursday, 5/24, at Debs & Co., another gallery with a domain but no site. They seem to have let their artnet page go, too.
