saw some paparazzi (maybe half a dozen) stalking their prey just as i exited my apartment with a load of laundry. after i dropped it off i joined the circus for a couple of blocks and most assuredly ruined a couple of shots as i stood next to mother and stroller on the median while crossing delancey. as any new yorker would do i didnt gawk which may have contributed to the fact that i couldnt identify the mark. for this i have great shame but certainly less than the photographers do although i have little doubt they were summoned by a publicist for the purpose of communal parasitism.
i hope that everyone will watch this documentary. i believe this is the first of two parts. it's heartbreaking and very tough to watch. it is estimated that between 60-100 million women are presently missing from the population bc of gender discrimination, sex slavery, and death.
Political consulting is often thought of as an offshoot of the advertising industry, but closer to the truth is that the advertising industry began as a form of political consulting. As the political scientist Stanley Kelley once explained, when modern advertising began, the big clients were just as interested in advancing a political agenda as a commercial one. Monopolies like Standard Oil and DuPont looked bad: they looked greedy and ruthless and, in the case of DuPont, which made munitions, sinister. They therefore hired advertising firms to sell the public on the idea of the large corporation, and, not incidentally, to advance pro-business legislation. It’s this kind of thing that Sinclair was talking about when he said that American history was a battle between business and democracy, and, “So far,” he wrote, “Big Business has won every skirmish.”
I've posted this previously, but while attempting to avoid gourd shopping this past weekend I mentioned it to Dave who did not remember. So here it is again:
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is—fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant fucking squash....