Did someone mention warm weather?
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
Nothing is ever boring when it's as loud as possible
The boys of 271 6th ave. were graced with the presence of Andrew's sister Amy this weekend, and we went to a gathering at a local billiards place. Of course, as many of you I'm sure already know, nothing is ever boring or straightforward when Andrew and Amy are involved. Rather than play a simple game of pool, Andrew, Amy and I developed the following version of billiards, to be played with as much irony and spectacle-making as possible:
Patriot Ball/Ultimate Patriot Ball
For one to four players
Coalition: 2 blue balls, 2 red balls, 2 burgundy balls
Enemies: 2 yellow balls, 2 orange balls, 2 purple balls, 2 green balls
Osama Ball: the 8 ball
Objective:
To rid the world of anti-Patriots, to neutralize the enemies of democracy.
Rules:
•All players are working to rid the pool table of the enemies, while protecting the coalition forces.
•You should always try to sink the Osama ball as early as possible in the game.
•You want to have zero enemies remaining on the table while retaining full coalition forces.
If you sink a coalition ball:
1.You must yell out “Patriot Act!”
2.You must sit out your next turn.
3.You must wear the rack or some other demeaning accessory to remind you that you have dabbled as an enemy of freedom.
If you scratch, the Bill of Rights is destroyed:
1.You must yell out “Civil Rights.”
2.You must wear your most outer piece of clothing inside out - and loudly declare that you have always worn it this way - to identify yourself as a bleeding-heart liberal.
3.You must take you next turn with your eyes closed.
4.If you sink an enemy ball while in the process of scratching, you must return the enemy to play (otherwise the arrest would be unconstitutional).
Caveats:
If the Osama ball is the final enemy ball standing, it converts 2 coalition balls to enemy balls.
Ultimate Patriot Ball:
The Osama ball must always have 2 enemies with it. In the event there are not 2 support forces for Osama it will convert one (or two) coalition ball(s) to enemies in order to have allies in its war on freedom.
For more than 4 players:
Force bleeding-heart liberals to sympathize with their fellow enemies of freedom and act as enemy forces.
Enjoy!
Patriot Ball/Ultimate Patriot Ball
For one to four players
Coalition: 2 blue balls, 2 red balls, 2 burgundy balls
Enemies: 2 yellow balls, 2 orange balls, 2 purple balls, 2 green balls
Osama Ball: the 8 ball
Objective:
To rid the world of anti-Patriots, to neutralize the enemies of democracy.
Rules:
•All players are working to rid the pool table of the enemies, while protecting the coalition forces.
•You should always try to sink the Osama ball as early as possible in the game.
•You want to have zero enemies remaining on the table while retaining full coalition forces.
If you sink a coalition ball:
1.You must yell out “Patriot Act!”
2.You must sit out your next turn.
3.You must wear the rack or some other demeaning accessory to remind you that you have dabbled as an enemy of freedom.
If you scratch, the Bill of Rights is destroyed:
1.You must yell out “Civil Rights.”
2.You must wear your most outer piece of clothing inside out - and loudly declare that you have always worn it this way - to identify yourself as a bleeding-heart liberal.
3.You must take you next turn with your eyes closed.
4.If you sink an enemy ball while in the process of scratching, you must return the enemy to play (otherwise the arrest would be unconstitutional).
Caveats:
If the Osama ball is the final enemy ball standing, it converts 2 coalition balls to enemy balls.
Ultimate Patriot Ball:
The Osama ball must always have 2 enemies with it. In the event there are not 2 support forces for Osama it will convert one (or two) coalition ball(s) to enemies in order to have allies in its war on freedom.
For more than 4 players:
Force bleeding-heart liberals to sympathize with their fellow enemies of freedom and act as enemy forces.
Enjoy!
Saturday, March 26, 2005
A better friday
It's become increasingly difficult for yours truly to reconcile my hopes for the Catholic Church with what one finds the reality to be. Consider that the Archdiocese of Detroit is closing schools in economically impoverished neighborhoods and opening new schools in rich, white suburbs. Historically, the Catholic schools have been a saving grace - no pun intended - for this former category of neighborhoods, and that the Church is now willing to choose financial prosperity over moral obligation is, at the very least, embarrassing to me as a member.
And thus it was that this Good Friday I decided to take on a very different type of profession of faith, thanks to the nice people at Pax Christi and the Archdiocese of New York (among others). These folks have, for the past 23 years, explored the connections between the Good Friday stations of the cross and current social justice and peace crises in our communities. This exploration takes the form of a long march down 42nd street, right through Times Square. Examples? Well, for the station recalling Mary's witnessing Jesus' affliction under the Cross, we stood outside the Pfizer world headquarters and presented the plight of millions of americans who cannot afford life-saving medication or health insurance as something to which we would bear witness and call upon those in the pharmaceutical industries to help fix. For the stations wherein Jesus is nailed to the cross and dies, we protested the reinstitution of the death penalty in New York state and our government's war-mongering in Iraq and elsewhere -- and we did those two right in the middle of times square, in front of that armed-forces recruitment station. 500+ people, plus onlookers, were involved.
Anyways, my point in telling this story is as much to remind myself that there still may be hope for the social-justice interests of the Catholic church, as it is to let y'all know what I've been up to.
And thus it was that this Good Friday I decided to take on a very different type of profession of faith, thanks to the nice people at Pax Christi and the Archdiocese of New York (among others). These folks have, for the past 23 years, explored the connections between the Good Friday stations of the cross and current social justice and peace crises in our communities. This exploration takes the form of a long march down 42nd street, right through Times Square. Examples? Well, for the station recalling Mary's witnessing Jesus' affliction under the Cross, we stood outside the Pfizer world headquarters and presented the plight of millions of americans who cannot afford life-saving medication or health insurance as something to which we would bear witness and call upon those in the pharmaceutical industries to help fix. For the stations wherein Jesus is nailed to the cross and dies, we protested the reinstitution of the death penalty in New York state and our government's war-mongering in Iraq and elsewhere -- and we did those two right in the middle of times square, in front of that armed-forces recruitment station. 500+ people, plus onlookers, were involved.
Anyways, my point in telling this story is as much to remind myself that there still may be hope for the social-justice interests of the Catholic church, as it is to let y'all know what I've been up to.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Shameful admission of guilt
Um...I may or may not have gone to the Macy's Flower show.
And I may or may not have really enjoyed it.
Sigh...
And I may or may not have really enjoyed it.
Sigh...
Thursday, March 24, 2005
ad hoc oratorio
Friday last (this post bringing us to the conclusion of my backlogged week of fun)I was struck with the singluar intention that I should like to take in the symphony. I stumbled across a posting in the New Yorker for a presentation of Handel's oratorio "Solomon" and so i bought a ticket. And then I bought a shirt and tie, because I didn't have time to go home after work and the shirt I had on proudly proclaimed me as the "World's Greatest Grandpa." The performance was held in a big, old, Gothic church on the upper-west side, and the place was packed when I got there (well, packed, in my opinion, for being a church on a friday night). It turns out that the woman singing the female lead is a very prolific and reportedly on of the best singers of early music in the world. She was incredible. Even though Handel's piece isn't all that moving, her voice certainly made it so. The chorus was fabulous, too, and I left feeling really pleased about my spur-of-the-moment choice for culture.
Saturday I spent working on a group project and watching TV and eating ice cream, though, so it all averaged out.
Saturday I spent working on a group project and watching TV and eating ice cream, though, so it all averaged out.
Richard Foreman, will you marry me?
Thursday I saw Richard Foreman's latest play, "The Gods Are Pounding My Head! (the Lumberjack Messiah)." If you've never seen a Richard Foreman play, you are missing out on the greatest living dramatist. No joke. He's almost indescribably adept at crafting pieces of theatre that keep an audience thinking. With so many plays around today that employ weak, easily-discerned metaphors and platitudes, Foreman's work exists as a thrilling puzzle that unfolds to greater complexity. Treat yourself, do yourself a favor and see his work!
Wow, did I really just write that? When did I get so uppity? Well, here's a picture of the Hamburglar to make up for it.
Wow, did I really just write that? When did I get so uppity? Well, here's a picture of the Hamburglar to make up for it.
A weekend with Calliope and the Cyclone
If ever I could think of a real-life counterpart to the muses of Hellenic art and folklore, I would most certainly be thinking of my friend Ann. After months of phone-tag and conflicting schedules, we finally worked out a time for her to visit me in NYC. The weekend was, of course, crazy as all hell.
Friday night we walked great distances in the city, just catching up. We settled in to a little Ukranian diner just as the snow began to fall, and then hurried home after a fantastic meal. One sleepy subway ride at 3:30 in the morning later, we collapsed.
Saturday was Coney Island in the morning/afternoon. Did you know they have a museum there? There are also some decidedly creepy rummage sales to peruse, if you're in to that sort of thing. This is only the second time I've been to Coney Island, and both times were on the off-season, which really adds to the bizarre splendor of the place. The odd people who inhabit Coney Island this time of year make it extra strange. There's a marked surrealism about watching someone shuffling past the idled Cyclone roller-coaster on a cold day in February, as you both sort of pretend that this is normal. Only it's not normal, it's Coney Island.
After a much needed nap, Ann and I headed out to Williamsburg to check out some small, hole-in-the-wall art galleries that were staying open late as part of some special event or other. They were only supposed to stay open until 11, but when we arrived at williamsburg it was already about 10:45. Thankfully, almost every gallery we went to was hosting a party, so we gallavanted about for several hours. I was very impressed with the way some of those artists used their spaces.
At about 2:30 we headed to Union Square and got dinner at a place called Coffee, which was really pretty excellent. Another sleepy late-night subway ride later (this one was at 4), we collapsed in Brooklyn.
Sunday was spent lazily crawling around the city and enjoying some much-needed Indian food at 28th and Lexington. If you ever need Indian food, there are about four-thousand Indian restaurants at that intersection. Enjoy.
Ann got to check out the lab (since we were nearby) and then we headed back to Brooklyn and enjoyed walking around in the nice weather.
All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. The good news is that she's coming back, with a whole gang of folks, to check out the Basquiat exhibit at the Brooklyn Musesum. I'd better get my sleep in now.
Friday night we walked great distances in the city, just catching up. We settled in to a little Ukranian diner just as the snow began to fall, and then hurried home after a fantastic meal. One sleepy subway ride at 3:30 in the morning later, we collapsed.
Saturday was Coney Island in the morning/afternoon. Did you know they have a museum there? There are also some decidedly creepy rummage sales to peruse, if you're in to that sort of thing. This is only the second time I've been to Coney Island, and both times were on the off-season, which really adds to the bizarre splendor of the place. The odd people who inhabit Coney Island this time of year make it extra strange. There's a marked surrealism about watching someone shuffling past the idled Cyclone roller-coaster on a cold day in February, as you both sort of pretend that this is normal. Only it's not normal, it's Coney Island.
After a much needed nap, Ann and I headed out to Williamsburg to check out some small, hole-in-the-wall art galleries that were staying open late as part of some special event or other. They were only supposed to stay open until 11, but when we arrived at williamsburg it was already about 10:45. Thankfully, almost every gallery we went to was hosting a party, so we gallavanted about for several hours. I was very impressed with the way some of those artists used their spaces.
At about 2:30 we headed to Union Square and got dinner at a place called Coffee, which was really pretty excellent. Another sleepy late-night subway ride later (this one was at 4), we collapsed in Brooklyn.
Sunday was spent lazily crawling around the city and enjoying some much-needed Indian food at 28th and Lexington. If you ever need Indian food, there are about four-thousand Indian restaurants at that intersection. Enjoy.
Ann got to check out the lab (since we were nearby) and then we headed back to Brooklyn and enjoyed walking around in the nice weather.
All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. The good news is that she's coming back, with a whole gang of folks, to check out the Basquiat exhibit at the Brooklyn Musesum. I'd better get my sleep in now.
Here we are, then.
I've got a week or so of stuff to catch up on here in my new spin-off series. I've created this newsletter of sorts as a response to requests from family and friends to keep them better informed about my goings-on. So, well, here we are, then. Welcome.
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