Audacious Expectations

doonesbury

The interview, which allowed Obama to take his campaign message to the type of audience that gets political news from programs like Stewart’s, seemed more wonkish than slapstick. via huff po.

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The Dying Thing

dylanOh, right. Blog. Entries. Write. Timely. All this stuff to remember. I get so caught up in my own reading or in reading online of the various crises that sweep the web—and then there is real life, a blurry distinction if ever there was one. I feel like such a traitor to the San Francisco Chronicle, which was for so many years such a great read in the morning, a daily magazine almost; now this thin, flabby thing is thrown upon my doorstep that is so much easier to skim online. Continue reading “The Dying Thing”

St. Louis

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I’m sorry, but did he roll up his shirtsleeves in Pennsylvania? Not that I saw. This isn’t rocket science or Kremninolgy, it’s just watching the signs. Semiotics are all around us, in fact we are bombarded, inundated with fucking signs. The signaling of meaning, which, I realize, has been co-opted by advertising. When did that happen? My mind is a blank. But god I love the ads in old National Geographics Continue reading “St. Louis”

Just Shoot Me 2010, v.1

Sheria at The Examined Life posted some statistics from the Daily Kos depression poll of the century. Just as well, I need crap like this … extrapolated so as to keep it at some remove. Sanity is precious, you know,  and one wants to go on believing the best of ones’ neighbors, in both the immediate and existential sense. I have always thought that being hateful inside must be the most boring of lives. Continue reading “Just Shoot Me 2010, v.1”

Walter Cronkite Is Dead

Glenn Greenwald – Salon.com But shouldn’t there be some standards governing what gets reported and what is held back?  Particularly in a case like this— which, for obvious reasons, has the potential to be quite inflammatory on a number of levels — having the major media “report” completely false assertions as fact can be quite harmful.

Glenn, Glenn, Glenn. Haven’t we had this talk before? That horse has left the barn. Walter Cronkite is dead. There’s no honor among thieves. Remember?
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