The Fifth Of November

“Employed Writer” Halloween costume was a joke, obvs. Getting into character right now to don my real costume — “Remember, remember, the fifth of November”…

Filed under: Events, Fashion, Film , celebrities, history, humor, linkage, photoblogging, red carpet situations

On Mavericks And Mavens

So ZOMG you guys do you all know who you are going to vote for in exactly two weeks from today? OMG I know, right? Me, too. I totally feel the same way. Anyway this blog entry is not going to be totally political because I do not really roll like that up in these “Curious Affairs” but it definitely will have some political elements involving humor, sarcasm, blonde female conservative right-wing talking heads, and lots and lots and lots of girl-on-girl and guy-on-guy hot homo love. (Also it promises to be a highly random entry, political or not, as I have The Writer’s Block / Malaise and feel like writing in a quirky and humorous style in order to hopefully get me out of this cloudy funk that has apparently covered my entire creative world as of late. Except for photography. I did shoot a lot of incredibly cool images of birds today. But I am saving those for tomorrow’s Hitchcockian entry and are you not just the luckiest readers ever to have that to anticipate?)

HOT HOMO LOVE

Let’s start right off with the hot homo love, shall we? After all, I do indeed have The Gay but so infrequently discuss it here unless I am whining about past lovers who have penises and in fact have been known to write not-so-well-argued pieces in the not-too-distant past regarding my at the time not-too-popular opinions on gay marriage, but as I myself have proved this year people can change and so can their opinions, so this is all about celebrating those of you who have found That Special Someone to have and to hold and blah blah blah forever and ever even though I have not and likely never will.

Anyway, there is this ballot initiative in California called Proposition 8 about which you may have heard should you live in California / America / not under a rock and just to nutshell it for you it would amend the California State Constitution to revoke the rights of same-sex couples to marry that was afforded them by the State back in June. I know, Double-U-Tee-Eff, right?! Now obviously I do not live in California, but since half of my BFFs do, as do a large constituency of my blog’s readers for some reason, I thought I would do my part to pimp the various fabulous resistance efforts regarding Proposition 8.

Choire Sicha has a fabulous piece up over at Radar Online in which he collects a whole slew of the ridiculous / horrifying / jaw-dropping-in-a-bad-way television advertisements in favor of Proposition 8, interspersed with his as usual inimitable commentary on such. It is called “Meet The Hip Young People Who Hate Gay Marriage” and it is well worth a once or twice or thrice over, allow me to assure you.

Additionally, This Girl Called Automatic Win is participating in “8 Against 8: 8 Lesbian Bloggers, 8 Days, 8,000 Dollars,” a coalition of eight amazing lesbian bloggers coming together “in a coordinated effort to help place the discriminatory ballot initiative called Proposition 8 in its rightful place in the dust heap of history.” Which, hey, that sounds fabulous to me. You may learn more about the collaborative effort in that linkage I so thoughtfully provided above, as well as participate, pimp out, and generally support the efforts of these amazing women. Also, check out Auto-Win’s inaugural 8 Against 8 article here, and follow her progress on the project here.

MAVERICKADE!

Following a lovely luncheon this afternoon at the edge of the Pacific Ocean (and the aforementioned and highly random avian photography), I picked up some snacks at my former favorite Liquorette Mart and motored it to the Harbor to relax and watch the sunset. Except I very rarely relax and I am always reading everything so I scanned the back of my Jagged Ice flavored PowerAde (WTF does “Jagged Ice” taste like, you ask? Why, grape, of course. Duh!) and was shocked to discover that The Coca-Cola Company apparently endorses McCain / Palin! Yes, right there on the label, in formidable ALL CAPS AND EVERYTHING! “PowerAde is liquid fuel to feed your MAVERICK SPIRIT!” I know. I was shocked, as well. Because I am a Coke Person and not a Pepsi Person and now I am going to have to switch, G-d damn it!*

Anyway then I remembered a piece I had read and viewed on Jezebel earlier this morning entitled “Elisabeth Hasselbeck Is Full Of Shirt” and was suddenly sick of hearing about her and her female wood for the McCain / Palin campaign and the conservative right-wing in general. Because she is kind of stupid about it, you know? I mean I realize that part of that is because she is on “The View” which I never watch with a bunch of female liberal sympathizers, but really? That whole t-shirt that Hasselbeck “designed” for the McCain / Palin campaign? It totally reminded me of this scene in the classic film “Drop Dead Gorgeous” (1999, dir. Michael Patrick Jann) in which Kirstie Alley’s character is interviewed regarding her various themes for a small Midwestern town’s annual beauty pageant that she coordinates.

Documentarian: So what was the theme of the pageant last year?
Gladys Leeman: Last year? It was, “Buy American.”
Documentarian: And the year before that?
Gladys Leeman: “U.S.A. is A-okay.”
Documentarian: Can you remember the theme of your favorite pageant?
Gladys Leeman: “Can I? I’m Amer-I-Can!” People ask me where I get this. I don’t know, it’s, maybe a gift from God or somethin’.

Yeah. “Or somethin’.” Anyway, that is what I think of Hasselbeck and her “Great AmeriMcCain Hero” t-shirt “design.” Also, does the conservative right-wing not already have a beautiful blonde female talking head who, um, does this kind of thing a whole hell of a lot better than Hasselbeck? Oh right! I thought so.

Anyway, you should also check out Alex Pareene’s “Five Real 2008 Election Winners” over at Gawker, as well, should you, like me, have been eating up the media coverage of the election season over the past several weeks and simply loved it but also have no energy, desire, nor inclination to delve into the punditry / analysis yourself in your own blog.

So that is likely the last anyone will read of politics in this blog until my historically epic rage entry (not drunken this year, thank Hera) liveblogging the actual Election Eve. Which, well, you will just have to tune in to see how it goes.

BEAUTIES AND THE BEAT

But speaking of beauties and the beat, and by that I mean the journalist’s “beat,” and in this case that beat is The Internet, I thought I would also take this opportunity to point your browser toward two amazing pieces I have read in the past week concerning beauty, popularity, and respect on the internet. Regular readers of “Curious Affairs” are likely familiar with my rather obvious love of these two female writers’ work, but I found their latest pieces to be particularly amazing and insightful. AV Flox’s latest, “Hot On The Web: Pageviews vs. Respect,” is a cogent commentary on gender, beauty, popularity, and respect on the world wide web. Emily Gould’s latest, in MIT’s Technology Review, “iTube: Why 23,201 People Care That Justine Ezarik Just Ate A Cookie,” is an interesting profile of the self-proclaimed “I Am The Internet” vlogging personality and the internet fame phenom in general. Both are excellent pieces.

REMEMBER THAT OTHER ELECTION?

Ha ha ha! You thought I meant the Presidential election in 2000, did you not? Fooled you! We are finished with politics here until 04 November, remember?

Anyway, no, I meant that voting thing for the Hot Blogger Calendar that I wrote about back in August, and totally pimped myself out because I had been nominated and asked that everyone who read me go over and vote for me now, damn it? Yes, that one. Anyway, I did not “win.” (The final count had me at 24th place, so, you know, if it was a two-year calendar I totally would have been December 2010, which numerology-wise could have been pretty awesome, but alas, etc.) But since I was honored just to be nominated, and totally heartened by all of the votes that I received, and beat Perez Hilton in the final tally, and none of my readers wanted to see a slutty yet artful photograph of me anyway, it’s all good. However, I am totally pimping the project again.

As the proceeds will be going to a variety of charitable organizations, and as I am a huge fan if not outright BFF of several of the featured bloggers, I must humbly request that you head on over to the site once the calendars are available (likely in a few weeks) and order one or a few for yourself / friends / parents / pets / etc. From what I have already heard, you will not be dissatisfied by all of the blogging hotness.

So, yeah, that is it for this installment. Stop back by tomorrow for a return to the usual nostalgic, emo, non-political fare of “Curious Affairs”.

This time with birds!

+ + +

* This is humor, obviously. I’ve no idea which campaign, if any, The Coca-Cola Company endorses, and quite frankly I am such a Coke Whore that I am not sure I would switch refreshing cola beverages for political or any other reasons. Also that Kirstie Alley publicity still was so not taken by me, but instead is copyright 1999 New Line Cinema Productions, Inc.

Filed under: Blogging, Fashion, Film, Food, Media, Net Culture, Photography, Politics, Writing , a-list, alucina, being a gay, being servicey, celebrities, humor, linkage, philanthropy, pimpage, remainders, repartee, retail therapy, rumormongering, television, video

Alive Right Now

“We’re just so lucky to be alive right now, aren’t we?”

Last evening I attended my final First Fashion Friday at Aloha Tower Marketplace. I was not really in the mood to attend such a festivity, and I boasted no Plus One, but since I had just closed the proverbial book on a rather emotionally- and intellectually-draining week, I hoped that the event would put me in the mood to attend, as it usually does. Partnering with the fabulous and creative people at Hawaii Fashion Incubator, Honolulu’s “central hub where members of the community can interact, collaborate, and collectively drive the local fashion industry forward,” Aloha Tower Marketplace has staged First Fashion Friday since July of 2007, every month from July through October (rather appropriately, my final First Fashion Friday was also the final event of the current season). It is always a fabulous evening full of fashion, fun, and local businesses, organizations, and personalities coming together to celebrate fashion and personal style. So I harbored hope that my mood would be elevated considerably without the use of pharmaceutical or alcoholic mood elevators.

I had, however, drastically underestimated what this week had actually done to my mood.

Following the main events of the evening, I wandered upstairs to Hawaii Fashion Incubator’s after party, which was showcasing the University of Hawaii’s Costume Collection and highlighting October as Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Turning away from the refreshment table with a San Pellegrino, I ran into an acquaintance I knew from my activities in Honolulu’s design community, and although I was not in the mood for shallow conversation, I stopped to chat with her out of politeness.

My acquaintance is one of those very happy, very positive Pollyanna types who is so cloyingly sweet that you want to slap her really hard, or show her a graphic photograph of one of those poor clubbed seal pups, just to show her how bad things really are / can be, but you end up resisting the urge to do either because she is actually so genuine and sincere with her happy, shiny sentiments. She’s like the maple syrup on a stack of Belgian waffles that is so sweet that it makes you want to stop eating halfway through the stack but you continue to eat anyway because you need to finish the stack of waffles, right?

Anyway, we began chatting about this and that, which quickly devolved to chatting exclusively about her “that” after I had divulged that my “this” involved leaving the islands permanently to return to New York this month. (This, I’ve noticed, has been standard procedure with my Honolulu acquaintances as I’ve run into them since making plans to leave; it is as if once they hear that I am leaving, I have already left.) She spoke of a benefit she was organizing two weeks from now, of the rapidly approaching Hawaii’s 5-0 Design Competition, and concluded by smiling this alarmingly wide, silly smile and exclaiming breathily, “We’re just so lucky to be alive right now, aren’t we?”

I am rather certain my facial expression contorted immediately into one that clearly communicated, “Are you high?!” The events and thoughts of the past week flashed like sheet lightning through my head: the economy, so badly Nagasakied, already worrying me in regards to my search for employment and real estate in the 212 (718? Dear G-d, not 201?!) upon my return; the two articles I have been researching and attempting to write all week, but that I am so not that into because they both stem from personal, unpleasant online events during the past two weeks; and I will not even go into the media slaughterhouse that occurred yesterday morning, putting several stunningly talented online media professionals out of jobs and, again, echoing my worries regarding finding any kind of gainful employment within, oh, I don’t know, the next decade?

I furrowed my brow at my acquaintance, who was clearly awaiting my concurrence with her ludicrously narrow-minded assertion. I could not very well agree with her that it is “great to be alive right now,” because, hello, unless you have been living under a rock for the past two weeks, you would recognize that this is simply an assinine statement. However, I could not very well disagree with her completely and suggest that the polar opposite of “being alive right now” would be far preferable, since, well, no one really knows if being dead is truly preferable to being alive, right? I mean, sure, you are dead, and all, but can you have fun? Are there parties? Is there hot butt sex? You don’t know!

So I ended up quibbling with her.

“Yes,” I said, smiling sarcastically. “Yes. It is great to be…alive.”

Filed under: Fashion, Media, Net Culture, New York, Writing , being servicey, defining moments, honolulu, humor, linkage, love each day, needful reminders, questions, red carpet situations, repartee, what would jackie do

The AB Remainders: La Dolce Vita Presso La Baia Di Tartarughe

Gay Horror Drama
I spent the holiday weekend at Turtle Bay Resort, in Kahuku on Oahu’s North Shore. This is rather like living in Manhattan and escaping to The Hamptons for a long holiday weekend, except with warmer ocean water and less attitude and pretension. Also, if you have been a fan of this blog for any amount of significant time, you will note that a weekend spent at Turtle Bay, for me, always begins with countless expectations of fun, frivolity, and fabulousness, yet nearly as always ends in trauma and / or heartbreak. Additionally, during production season, it is not by any means extraordinary to stumble across someone you recognize from, say, “Lost,” or that regrettable here! network’s homo series that no one really watches for any other reason than the triple super hott soft core pr0n scenes between certain actors, “Dante’s Cove.”

[I spotted two of the latter's stars jogging shirtless the last time my presence graced The Bay Of Honus; none this time, however, since I believe the show has been thankfully canceled. (But wait! A quick check of its Wiki indicates that it is remarkably still in production! Who knew?! And actually one would think that I would be a huge fan of this series, since "gay horror drama" kind of also accurately describes my own life, but alas, one would be incorrect, as I am most certainly not a fan of the series.) And "Lost" is not currently in production right now. Finally, oddly, this mini-vacation, for me, did not this time conclude in any trauma or heartbreak. Which, WTF?!]

Dwelling By The Seashore, A Haven For Ships
“It would have been Chagall’s birthday today, apparently, FYI,” he said to me, mouth full of Hawaiian sweet bread smeared with mango butter. “Mmmm?” I somehow managed to drawl, exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke before inhaling a mouthful of hot, sweet Kona while perusing Michael Kors’ latest men’s prêt-à-porter on my laptop. “What, I thought you liked him?” he queried, eyebrows arched in surprise. I raised my eyes from my laptop’s screen to assure him, “Oh no, yes! I do! I love him! I just had to work on this huge project archiving his pieces during one dark winter while working in Hadassah’s Creative Services Department, so my love for him was kind of darkened about the edges a bit thanks to that.” “What was his connection to Hadassah?” he asked, again genuinely confused. I laughed. “Um, he was Jewish? Plus he created the stained glass windows of The Synagogue of The Hadassah-Hebrew University Medical Center, which represent the Twelve Sons of the Patriarch Jacob?” “Oh,” he replied, slightly mollified. “I always forget how almost a Jew you are.” I laughed and raised my coffee cup. “À maître Chagall,” I said, in a toast, “bonne anniversaire et merci beaucoup for making those early outs on Friday afternoons to make it home in time for the Sabbath that much more beloved by me during those long winter archive weeks.” “D’accord, salut!” he laughed, and raised his cup as well.

Garbage In, Garbage Out
I found out that Jesse Helms died from a fellow passenger, on a catamaran dinner cruise off of the Waianae Coast on Friday evening (to watch the fireworks from the sea and to benefit the dolphins). “OMG!” the college boy exclaimed, making his father look at his hand, “Jesse Helms died!” “Shut UP!” I couldn’t resist interrupting, peering over the boy’s shoulder at the headlines on his iPhone. “Finally?!” And then I tried, really tried, to adhere to my mother’s old clichéd advice of remaining silent if you did not have anything nice to say about a person or a situation. I was successful for probably an hour, at which point I failed, and updated my Twitter via text message with a brief and not-so-nice tweet update. The Gay Recluse, I discovered later, had done a far better (and far more elegant) job of concisely chronicling, in text and in images, the death of the North Carolina Senator, in “On Jesse Helms: A Life Spent Throwing Garbage From The Windows,” in which he also laments another nasty habit that always used to enrage me when I lived in New York: the whole throwing garbage down the internal building shafts thing. Anyway, his take on Helms’ death, as I wrote before, was far nicer than my concise tweet of, “OMG! Jesse Helms FINALLY died?! On JULY FOURTH?!?! HA HA HA! Best. Birthday. Present. EVER!”

Great Pâté But I’ve Gotta Motor If I’m Gonna Make It To This Funeral
“God damn it!” I exclaimed, dropping my lit Marlboro Light on the floor of the lanai and spilling coffee down the front of my white resort robe. “What?!” he exclaimed from across the table, spilling his own coffee at my outburst, the only sound before it having been the warm strains of Nina Simone emanating from my laptop’s speakers, as it had been for most of the weekend. “My MySpace code is screwed up again!” I wailed, angrily killing my cigarette in an ashtray. “Why do I still maintain this profile, why?!” “Because you’re an idiot?” “Oh yeah, that’s right!” We both finished, “You two,” laughing.

“I seriously need to assess my social media presence and edit it considerably,” I decided aloud. “Mmmmhmmm!” my friend, whose online presence is far more private than is mine, agreed. “You know what else I need to edit?” “Hmmm?” “My blog’s ‘Most Popular Articles’ list.” “Whatever for?” “Because it’s a joke! Those aren’t articles that people read and liked; they’re articles that people just found,” I sniffed in derision. “Why?” he inquried, “what’s on there?” I read the titles of the “Top Five” to him: “‘Small Dicks And Sideways Vaginas,’ ‘All About The Lubeless Anal Rape,’ ‘Now Is The Time For Guts And Guile,’ ‘His Hello Was The End Of Her Endings,’ and ‘The Spiderman Is Having Me For Dinner Tonight.’ It’s just perverts and emo drunk single girls and homos Googling phrases and ending up at my blog for two seconds before they realize the articles aren’t about what they promise or until they have enough time to copy and paste the phrases they were searching for into their LiveJournal or something. It’s inaccurate!” “Hey, I rather liked the ‘Small Dicks / Sideways Vaginas’ article,” he said, in defense. “I mean even though it wasn’t a ‘real’ article and only linked to your sister’s, you quite nicely debunked the stereotype of Asian men having small dicks.” “Yeah, well,” I smiled wryly, “I never have been one for stereotypes. I may have a limp wrist and a lisp but I can still throw a left hook, break your nose, and kick your ass if I need to.” He laughed. “Well, do that and edit your online crap later?” he suggested, picking up a snorkel gear bag from the suite’s divan and dangling it toward me, shaking it. “It’s ocean time.” I emitted a high-pitched squeal and grabbed the bag and my white D&G trunks in one fluid motion.

Of Course I’m Wearing Short Short Trunks. I’m Atherton Bartelby.
Speaking of Michael Kors’ fall 2008 men’s prêt-à-porter line, I am sooooo digging it. I don’t know how I managed to miss being able to figuratively ejaculate all over it back when it was premiered during New York Fashion Week in February (all right, I do know: February was not a good month for me; I was…preoccupied), but I am now obviously intensely loving it. Apparently inspired by the series “Mad Men” (which I also had not heard about, WTF?!), it is fabulous. I need the entire line and the DVD of the first season of “Mad Men” like, now, because: A) this entire line is so unbelievably me, and, B) clearly, I was born about twenty years too late, as I would have fit into the whole Madison Avenue Ad Game in the late sixties quite splendidly, thank you very much.

“Why are you looking at Chuck Bass?” he asked, with a derisive lilt to his tone. “I am not!” I said defensively. “I was just checking out Sadie Stein’s latest “Fashion Show” entries on Jezebel [because I have become alarmingly hooked on them!] and stopped in to see if there were any new Chuck Bass Snap Judgment captions.” He stared at me in amazement. “You’re a fan of ‘Gossip Girl’?!” “No!” “Um. Of Chuck Bass?!” “No! I just like the captions, ok?! They make me guffaw!” [Kors and "Mad Men" intel, by the way, via Make The Logo Bigger, credited for the find even though he appears to like both far less than do I.]

[Edited To Add: In a rather timely fashion, I came across a fabulous piece just two seconds ago written by Michael Bierut regarding "Mad Men," entitled, "Mad Men: Pitch Perfect." Nothing like having one's opinions validated by one of one's idols, now, is there? Via Design Observer.]

If All Else Fails? Vomit.
I had intended a far fuller list of “Remainders” but, well, it being a holiday week and everyone else forking over as little online content as did I over the last four days, there frankly wasn’t much. Although I do have quite a lot of writing links that I need to disseminate and discuss at some point later this week, as well. But this piece is already dangerously lengthy and free-write-y enough, as it is. “What,” he said, “absolutely no items from Gawker this week?” “Of course!” I snapped, although laughing. “Duh! Kittehs!”

“That’s just too…” Wincing.

“I know, right?!” Smiling.

La Dolce
“Blondie,” he murmured, fingers running through the curls at the back of my neck. I laughed. Handed the cigarette we were sharing back to him. “Did you enjoy the weekend?” he inquired, before inhaling deeply from the filter.

I clasped my hand around his arm that rested on my shoulder and smiled at him as I took my own drag before saying, softly, “Best. Birthday. Present. Ever.”

He chuckled. Looked down at the ground. Errant locks of black hair falling into his eyes.

“Safe flight,” I wished him aloud, then, “safe flights,” I corrected. “And knock them dead in London.”

He smiled. “Sure you won’t come with?”

I smiled in return. “I’m sure,” I said. “I have my own feces to get assimilated here during the next several weeks.” I chuckled, as did he.

His eyes met mine. “Are we cool?” he asked.

I winced only slightly. Smiled. “We’re…cool,” I replied.

He took one final drag of the Marlboro Light before handing it back to me, leaning in to kiss me softly as he did so.

We parted in silence.

I stood there for a few more minutes, squinting into the beautiful golden light of the HNL sunset, watching his lithe frame recede slowly down the long walkway.

Filed under: Art, Fashion, Media, Music, New York, Politics, Relationships, Writing , a-list, being a gay, celebrities, humor, linkage, lists, london, lonely planet, memories, needful reminders, oahu, omgwtfbbq, painter, philanthropy, pimpage, remainders, repartee, rumormongering, television, what would jackie do

The AB Remainders: Geek Love

So, yes, I am aware that my inaugural “Remainders” was published on a Saturday and not a Friday (even though the copy did intimate that it would be a regular Friday feature), via an e-mail from a new and very rightfully confused reader (so sorry about that, by the way). But you know how you can start out writing a piece at, oh, say dawn on a Friday morning, and then other things, e.g., Life, come up and then you get sidetracked? Or you come across a note that’s been scribbled on a white napkin stained with something that looks like béarnaise sauce but could also quite possibly be a béchamel and the note reads, “BLOG IDEA!!! The taste of freshly caught and steamed Dungeness crabs dipped in lime juice and pepper in the sunlight at 11:00 p.m. in your ex’s parents’ home’s front yard!!!” and you’re all, “WTF? Where was that going?” Or you discover a particularly sexy-in-a-geek-love-way photo spread on the Internet of the guy who founded one of the two computing giants of the last, well, nearly all of the years of your life and you realize that today is now his last day with that computing giant even though it seems like just yesterday that you were learning how to word process on its software?

So, yeah, that’s kind of what happened.

Anyway, never fear: “Remainders” is a Friday feature. It just may not always be published on a Friday.

(And, um, Bill Gates was kind of hot in that photo spread.)

+ + +

• Over the last several months of my growing love affair with Twitter.com, I have had the pleasure of following the progress and growth of Alltop.com, the “digital magazine rack” of the Internet. As it is no secret that I (for the most part) crave the discovery of quality, intelligent content in my travels throughout the Internet, I was ecstatic when I found and began using the site, an aggregator that collects stories from “all the top” sites on the web and groups them into intuitive categories, back when it first launched in March. I have this site to thank for all of the amazing new sites that I have discovered recently, all of which have charmed their way easily onto my list of daily “Must-Reads”. Definitely be sure to check out Alltop.com, originally discovered via Guy Kawasaki and Neenz.
• Although I am really only half-kidding whenever I make a self-deprecating joke along the lines of, “Yeah. I’m a blogger. So where’s my frickin’ book deal?”, my initial reaction to the news of another blogger landing a book deal is usually a protracted and exaggerated rolling of the eyes. Not because it isn’t me (again), but because the coveted book deal is generally bestowed upon a blog that I think either: A) sucks; or B) will totally not be successful as a book. And in a world in which there are already quite a lot of bad books, and even more bad blogs, why in the hell would we need / want more bad books derived from equally bad blogs? Which is why I adored Sheila’s “How Will These Blogs Fare As Books?” piece over at Gawker.com this week, i.e., because I agreed with every item, particularly the one about the “Fine Lines” column at Jezebel. About this Friday feature in which writer / reviewer / blogger Lizzie Skurnick gives a “sentimental, sometimes-critical, far more wizened look at the children’s and YA books we loved in our youth,” Sheila writes, “Do not underestimate the power of teen girls, bookish girls, and women who used to be teen girls! They love this stuff.” (So do men who used to be bookish, girly teen boys and read those same books!) Be sure to check out “Fine Lines” at Jezebel via Gawker and This Girl Called Automatic Win. (Please, I beg of you, if you read nothing else, at least read the sublime review of V. C. Andrews’ My Sweet Audrina; its conclusion is flawless.)
• Several found items on the Internet this week totally reminded me why I so-much-greater-than-three graphic design, and being a graphic designer and a visual artist. Some years ago, I was asked during an impromptu interview to describe the importance of graphic design as a career and as a practice. As I was at the time going through a break-up, drinking too much, and listening to far too much Wagner, my response was rather chilling, but, I believe, still rather fitting: “Think very carefully about Nazi propaganda art and design for just fifteen seconds. Now tell me that effective graphic design cannot communicate whatever messages it chooses.” Which is why I devoured “Branding Youth In The Totalitarian State” this week, by Steven Heller, via Design Observer. I found two other equally engaging pieces that focused on the behind-the-scenes work of any designer, be they production designers of books, or the builders and programmers of eventually insanely popular websites. There is something about those initial stages, the “births” of projects, when only paper, pencil, ink, scissors, paste, or paint, are used, that is infinitely inspiring to me. Do not miss “From The Design Desk: Production Is Not For Dummies” over at The Chronicle Books Blog, and “The Paper Version Of The Web,” via what is very quickly becoming my immediate go-to source for all things interesting in the design world, Brand Flakes For Breakfast.
• Probably the most hysterically humorous spoof video I have seen in a very long time. Just watch it. And laugh. It’s as if its creators were proverbial flies on the walls of my last company.

  “The Website Is Down,” via Make The Logo Bigger.

• Occasionally, when I am bored and my Google Reader is empty (i.e., very rarely), I will click on that “Discover>>” link, and invariably roll my eyes (yes, again, and yes, this particular Atherton Bartelby gesture is patented) at what my Google Reader assumes I would find interesting (which is frankly unfathomable to me, as my Google Reader is currently stocked with some pretty fascinating feeds). Anyway, equally as rarely, I find a keeper. This week it was Thomas Hawk’s Digital Connection. With pieces brimming with stellar photography and insightful writing, I simply could not get enough. Only a sampling of pieces I found enjoyable include: “Do Yahoo! Executives Really ‘Get’ The Whole Idea Of Flickr And Web 2.0?,” “My Photography Workflow,” and a referral to another photographer’s eerie photographs of the “Abandoned SFO International Terminal.” Discovered via, well, via my usually lame Google Reader “Discover>>” link! Also worth checking out if, like me, you have salivated over every new post you have seen published there since it launched, is Andy Baio’s Interview With Alan Taylor, creator of Boston Globe’s stunning weblog, “The Big Picture.” Discovered via Kottke.org.
• Rocking My iTunes On Repeat This Week: The Fifteenth Anniversary Re-Issue of my fellow Winnetkan / Chicagoan Liz Phair’s “Exile In Guyville,” of course! (reminded of said historic date via Emily Magazine); The M’s latest, “Real Close Ones,” via Chicagoist and their Tankboy, from whom I receive nearly all of my new music recommendations these days; and Gotye (usually “Heart’s A Mess,” usually late, late at night), via Make The Logo Bigger.
• Finally, and perhaps most importantly, a brilliant discovery: a company that takes great pride in doing one thing, and one thing only: making white shirts. For men and for women, The White Shirt Company: simplicity, utility, perfection. Via Gaping Void.

Always have a classic white shirt handy, be kind to your IT professionals, and have a fabulous weekend!

+ + +

[Author's Note: I originally discovered the image of Bill Gates above in another blog article (along with three additional images), which claimed that the images had been part of a photo spread for a 1983 issue of Teen Beat magazine. Having myself been a huge fan of said magazine when I was younger, I laughed out loud and exclaimed to myself, "OMGWTFBBQ NO WAI!" And then I thought about it for approximately thirty seconds, stopped laughing, and said sarcastically to myself, "No, really, no way," before checking in with Snopes.com for The Real Story. (Still, though: what bedroom-y, come-hither publicity photos for a software executive, no?!) Photo Caption: "Bill Gates, CEO of Microsoft, reclines on his desk in his office soon after the release of Windows 1.0. 1985. Bellevue, Washington, USA." Photo Credit: © Deborah Feingold / CORBIS.]

Filed under: Academia, Art, Blogging, Books, Design, Fashion, Food, Media, Music, Technology, Web Design , a-list, defining moments, humor, linkage, memories, office love, omgwtfbbq, pimpage, publishing, questions, remainders, video