Greenwald links to a piece in the NYRB by long time Putin critic Masha Gessen. I was going to say it is a worthwhile read, but I guess I really just mean, "this is what I think too*." In any case, there it is.
* Well, it's part of what I think. I'd also go much further than she does here concerning the motivations for neo-liberals who keep relentlessly pushing this story.
Q in Ct? heard hoo doo brown is real good / ridgefield ct
Equality Achieved!!!
on netflix
one potato two potato three potato roll
Temperatures up to 40 degF (22 degC) above normal today across the East.
— Eric Holthaus (@EricHolthaus) February 24, 2017
The warmest February day for 100+ years (since records begin). pic.twitter.com/nBLfL1twg9
In the running for best potato ever!!
Gerald Holtom's peace sign circa '58 (N.D.)
Une Femme Coquette may not sound like anything special—a 9-minute no-budget short film, shot on a borrowed 16mm camera by a 24-year-old amateur with no formal film school training. But the short, which was the subject of our article “Neither lost nor found: On the trail of an elusive icon’s rarest film” back in 2014, has for decades been a sought-after item for art-house buffs and rare movie fiends. Filmed in Geneva, Switzerland, in 1955, it was the first attempt at a narrative film by the iconic French New Wave director Jean-Luc Godard—a pivotal figure in the evolution of movie style, who would make his feature debut just five years later, with the hugely influential and perennially cool Breathless.
Looking for something to take my mind off of the news I stumbled upon Detectorists, so far so good but I'm only one episode in. NYT: DETECTORISTS Britain (Acorn) - Mackenzie Crook’s melancholy comedy about the minor triumphs of a pair of friends who share a passion for metal detecting is the most delicate of shows — it feels as if it might float away while you’re watching it. In its second season, Mr. Crook and especially Toby Jones continued their marvelous work as small-timers who, most of the time, mask their frustration and rage in hilariously ineffectual diffidence. NETFLIX.
Triple treat: Eclipse, comet, full moon all coming Friday night
cafe clock Fez
From the outset, he was blatantly fraudulent. Reeking of unabashed insincerity, he cannibalised every -ism he encountered, chewed it up and joyfully spit it back into the faces of the establishment. David Bowie used to say that he wasn’t really a rock star, but an actor playing a rock star. The same could be said for Picabia: he played the role of an artist, producing an oeuvre of spectacular fakeness—fake Cubism, fake Surrealism, fake Social Realism, fake Romanticism, and finally, in his last works, fake Dadaism. For a half century, Picabia brilliantly trolled the art world. Everything he did was purposefully “wrong.”
