Bullets
• Sienna Miller was just on The Daily Show, wearing leggings. Either she has an unspeakable obsession with tight black leg-clinging cloth, or her legs are horribly scarred and she's embarrassed to either show them or leave them unsheathed.
• It snowed! I can't believe Extreme Blizzard Winterfront 2007 is already over.
• The whole Boston Aqua Teen hoax falls neatly into the same category as the Ohio U scare over a This Bike is a Pipe Bomb sticker and the time an entire flight was diverted when someone found a note that said "bomb bomb bomb ... meet the parents," which was clearly a quote from the Ben Stiller movie.
Once again I'd like to reiterate the need for security forces to take at least basic pop-culture training. It's for our safety!
Anyway, the press conference with the two arrested dudes is quite funny:
• I can't believe Molly Ivins is dead. I actually had no idea she was as sick as she must have been. Her voice and her humor will be sorely missed.
• Which brings me to this shirt:
At this point I'll have to break with many of my 'net pals and say that I don't care for this shirt. My main beef (there are a couple) is this: Breast cancer is not about tits. It's about the person those tits happen to be attached to. The boobs are completely expendable if it means saving a life. And this shirt so flippantly makes it sound as if the main concern when fighting breast cancer is the breast.
Not so, friends, not so.
But this type of borderline outrageous advertising is something we've come to expect from the Komen Foundation, which has ostensibly done more for branding Breast Cancer (tm) than it has to find a cure. [For further reading on the Komenification of Breast Cancer (tm), please see what Twisty, an actual breast cancer survivor, has to say.) Their intent is pure, I'm sure (as in, "do whatever it takes to raise money"), but their marketing team needs a swift knock upside the head. Because not only do they produce the occasional boob-centric T-shirt, they also dispense with absolute nonsense such as this, which seems to me to be clearly inappropriate and misguided.
I'm all for drawing attention to an unsexy story — cancer and donating money to find its cure — but I resent that breast cancer has to revolve around tits and femininity.
• I'm in the market for a house. Sort of (within the next three years or so). So I drove around a particular Midtown neighborhood I'm not that familiar with today, looking to see what the offerings were. Buying a house seems like an incredibly daunting task, wrought with all sorts of stress about shit I've never had to deal with before, including people in suits and copper wiring and neighborhood associations. But sometimes I think about how it must feel to stomp around in your own house, singing at the top of your lungs, at any hour of the day, and it makes me burn with envy.
• I've been working off and on on a reprint of the massive Mississippi River series the CA published between Christmas and New Year's. We're basically taking all the stories and adding some more photos and printing a 36-page broadsheet book (on high-bright paper!) of the entire thing. I think it's going to be really, really cool. It goes on sale around Feb. 14 (I'm not sure about the exact date, but it prints on the 14th) for $5, and — seriously, I'm not shilling for my company here; I'm telling you like it is, from looking at the copy and art every day — it's going to be absolutely worth it. They're only printing 1,000 copies, so if you want one for yourself, I'm told they'll be in the lobby of the CA for sale. The photography alone on this project is outstanding. I can't rave about our photo staff enough. They are the best in the region, no question about it.
• That Biden guy? Total douche. Okay, maybe not a douche, but I don't feel bad for him or feel like he was unfairly misunderstood. I heard Dan Savage on NPR tonight debating some other guy about Biden's "slip-up," and I, like Savage, am content in knowing that this ends Biden's presidential aspirations. Seriously, my next president would never even let such a thought form in his head, much less trickle out his mouth. And by "his", I mean "his or her," because it sure as fuck might be a "his or her" kind of year.
• This month's Smithsonian has an article in it about facial reconstruction artists during WWI, accompanied by some fabulous photographs of soldiers before and after their masks had been applied. As a fan of both the macabre and of functional art, the whole idea appeals to me on a visceral level, but I especially love that Art helped lessen the impact the bodily destruction wreaked by war had on the everday lives of surviving, but maimed, soldiers. It's a beautiful and heartbreaking story, but one that is fascinating.
• I'm out of wine, so I guess I'll go play some Sim City 4 and then go to bed. YAWN.
• It snowed! I can't believe Extreme Blizzard Winterfront 2007 is already over.
• The whole Boston Aqua Teen hoax falls neatly into the same category as the Ohio U scare over a This Bike is a Pipe Bomb sticker and the time an entire flight was diverted when someone found a note that said "bomb bomb bomb ... meet the parents," which was clearly a quote from the Ben Stiller movie.
Once again I'd like to reiterate the need for security forces to take at least basic pop-culture training. It's for our safety!
Anyway, the press conference with the two arrested dudes is quite funny:
• I can't believe Molly Ivins is dead. I actually had no idea she was as sick as she must have been. Her voice and her humor will be sorely missed.
• Which brings me to this shirt:
At this point I'll have to break with many of my 'net pals and say that I don't care for this shirt. My main beef (there are a couple) is this: Breast cancer is not about tits. It's about the person those tits happen to be attached to. The boobs are completely expendable if it means saving a life. And this shirt so flippantly makes it sound as if the main concern when fighting breast cancer is the breast.
Not so, friends, not so.
But this type of borderline outrageous advertising is something we've come to expect from the Komen Foundation, which has ostensibly done more for branding Breast Cancer (tm) than it has to find a cure. [For further reading on the Komenification of Breast Cancer (tm), please see what Twisty, an actual breast cancer survivor, has to say.) Their intent is pure, I'm sure (as in, "do whatever it takes to raise money"), but their marketing team needs a swift knock upside the head. Because not only do they produce the occasional boob-centric T-shirt, they also dispense with absolute nonsense such as this, which seems to me to be clearly inappropriate and misguided.
I'm all for drawing attention to an unsexy story — cancer and donating money to find its cure — but I resent that breast cancer has to revolve around tits and femininity.
• I'm in the market for a house. Sort of (within the next three years or so). So I drove around a particular Midtown neighborhood I'm not that familiar with today, looking to see what the offerings were. Buying a house seems like an incredibly daunting task, wrought with all sorts of stress about shit I've never had to deal with before, including people in suits and copper wiring and neighborhood associations. But sometimes I think about how it must feel to stomp around in your own house, singing at the top of your lungs, at any hour of the day, and it makes me burn with envy.
• I've been working off and on on a reprint of the massive Mississippi River series the CA published between Christmas and New Year's. We're basically taking all the stories and adding some more photos and printing a 36-page broadsheet book (on high-bright paper!) of the entire thing. I think it's going to be really, really cool. It goes on sale around Feb. 14 (I'm not sure about the exact date, but it prints on the 14th) for $5, and — seriously, I'm not shilling for my company here; I'm telling you like it is, from looking at the copy and art every day — it's going to be absolutely worth it. They're only printing 1,000 copies, so if you want one for yourself, I'm told they'll be in the lobby of the CA for sale. The photography alone on this project is outstanding. I can't rave about our photo staff enough. They are the best in the region, no question about it.
• That Biden guy? Total douche. Okay, maybe not a douche, but I don't feel bad for him or feel like he was unfairly misunderstood. I heard Dan Savage on NPR tonight debating some other guy about Biden's "slip-up," and I, like Savage, am content in knowing that this ends Biden's presidential aspirations. Seriously, my next president would never even let such a thought form in his head, much less trickle out his mouth. And by "his", I mean "his or her," because it sure as fuck might be a "his or her" kind of year.
• This month's Smithsonian has an article in it about facial reconstruction artists during WWI, accompanied by some fabulous photographs of soldiers before and after their masks had been applied. As a fan of both the macabre and of functional art, the whole idea appeals to me on a visceral level, but I especially love that Art helped lessen the impact the bodily destruction wreaked by war had on the everday lives of surviving, but maimed, soldiers. It's a beautiful and heartbreaking story, but one that is fascinating.
• I'm out of wine, so I guess I'll go play some Sim City 4 and then go to bed. YAWN.
posted by theogeo | 2/02/2007 12:21:00 AM
2 Comments:
Lindsey - I'm getting the depressing '404' on this link:
"absolute nonsense such as this," in your graph about Koman.
I see your point about only associating breast cancer with 'tits'.
I would hope that most people would know better, but then again I hoped that 'Arrested Development' would find a large audience. I guess i'm in the school of 'it takes a lot more to get people's attention these days'.
Thanks for your thoughts.
Whoops, link's fixed! Thanks for the heads-up.
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