Lorna Mills and Sally McKay
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Put June 17 in your calendars - Smiling Buddha, 961 College Street, 7pm. Casual evening of screenings and readings featuring Lorna Mills, Andrew J. Paterson, Sally McKay and Von Bark. More details coming soon.
From Pierre Tristam's Burning Lebanon:
"What sadder fascination to watch and read journalists from al-Jazeera to the Wall Street Journal try to give their interpretation of this latest conflagration, to, quote unquote, try to make sense of it, as if there is anything to be made sense of when senselessness is the preferred and universal fuel. What sense is there, regardless of the legitimate objective of getting those barbaric militants out of the Palestinian camp and out of Lebanon if possible, to attack them with barbarism in turn—to blast off civilians in the refugee camp like so much collateral irrelevance? Once again, those paying the heaviest price are those who have nothing to do with the fight. Who to blame first is silly. The genealogy of responsibility is as long as Abraham’s. No one can be spared, no one should be. But in the immediate vicinity of the mayhem, let’s not be too relative, either: those Datah al-Islam types think nothing of spreading destruction, of using terrorism to their limited advantage—not that the action they’re involved in against the Lebanese army can be termed terrorism (no battle between combatants can be). The consequences of the battle, of course, can be. The Lebanese and Palestinians of Tripoli and Nahr al Bared camp are being terrorized no less than the Lebanese were terrorized by Israel’s invasion last summer. And who are those fanatical Fatah al-Islam types, what are they, if not much more than the latest collection of ideological rags wrapped in perversions of Islam pretending to serve the cause of Palestinian nationalism? They’re minor-league butchers who think a stint of loitering and ganging about Iraq makes them kings in their miserable little camp."His eloquent outrage attracts some of the most heated and literate responses that I've ever read online. (Check the comment thread for his post.)
(image from Rugs of War)
Outed as a spy! Say it ain't so Ryszard! (thanks to Anthony Easton for pointing this story out)
Oh well, the proof of his value is in the pudding (that being his magnificent writing). He now joins my rogues' gallery of authorities, full of serial rapists, saints, fascists, communists, liberals, romantics, pedants, spousal abusers, bad parents, ideologues, subversives, dictators, philosophers, oligarchs, autocrats, bank tellers and worse.
--sally mckay & L.M.
All the above images were taken by Joester.
I expected the Maker Fair to be good wholesome geeky fun, but I didn't expect it to give me teary-eyes and lumps-in-the-throat.
On the human-powered midway people flung themselves around in the air on beautiful gawky machinery using bicycle technology. It was fossil-fuel-free but in no way smug or preachy, just thrilling dang coolness and exciting fun that made me feel sort of nice about the future for once (albeit in a Russell Hoban kind of way).
There was also a huge hall full of tables, glue guns, trashed computer pieces, masses of other misc. bits of detritus and about 500 kids digging through piles and bending over their projects, completely absorbed in making some groovy weird shit. It reminded me of the Diorama Extravaganza, but on a massive scale. Could've stayed in there all day.
At the gates we were met with SRL-style fireballs that shook the ground and made you worry about your eyebrows. Also a multi-storey version of the old game Mouse Trap, very reminiscent of Der Lauf Der Dinge by Fischli and Weiss. Also a gi-normous walking giraffe-type thing with pretty LEDs and a fibre-optic tail. It talked when you petted its nose.
There's a bit of video here but it makes the rides and fireballs look much tamer than they really were.
Of course there was lots lots more. My favourite art-like presentation was a performance; a guy knitting a red scarf with big drum-stick sized needles, playing his drum kit in time as he knit (video). We also got to meet artist Phil Ross with his sad little plants in glass tubes, maintained with light and nutrients regulated to keep them alive but not growing. "Survive, not Thrive."
We were there for many hours, and didn't even get to see the doggie monorail. I wanna go again next year and help Rob Cruikshank man a booth. Rob, you gotta do it! More fun than anything else ever.
Note: joester and I had competing candidates for most geeky guy at the fair. There were a lot of people wandering around with tinfoil on their heads, but they didn't compare to the pony-tailed dude who'd made his own Segway (joester's pick) or to the white-short-shorts-wearing guy I'm championing, overheard telling a good looking young woman who was working a booth: "There's lots of information on the internet, just use Google."