Bailey Alexander

Colette is my uber muffin and finest advisor, "life is not a dress rehearsal, enjoy."

Her namesake is Colette of course, author of Gigi and all that it might imply.

Like the author and my petite papillon, I too believe in being true to your beloved. Be intimate, be explicit and explore life's wide range of reference points...

Long before the TSA, when Lord Berners met Sergei Diaghilev; details were different.

Once upon a time we weren't buried in brands, we weren't enticed to 'like' chic luggage and major airlines on FB, as if suddenly glamorous by association. Is travel even considered attractive, in this day and age?  

Mio marito recently skidded in from Eurasia, he'll travel to another 5 countries in the next 10 days. I project nothing but stress, what with sim chips, plugs, phones, currencies, passports let alone packing for multiple places and meetings. Interesting, perhaps. Stressful, very. 

I suppose the change of scenery could provide enough sensory overload to override the reality. But travel can be rough. 

Ironically I do find traveling to Paris far more glamorous than living and banking in la lumiere. Arguing in another language with inebriated neighbors once famous for soft porn movies like Emmanuel was less than, but yes, traveling by train to Paris is glamorous, d'accord.  

Alors, plane travel, not so much. No matter which class, hassle will arrive in the form of best friend or close acquaintance.

Worse yet, unimaginable even, to think a female might pay several hundred dollars to travel to New York or San Francisco, perhaps to attend her best friends wedding, only to be turned away because another female can't feel her up because the TSA doesn't have a woman reporting to duty that day. It. Boggles. My. Mind.    

So rather than bitch about it and because I practice what I preach I won't escape to the mountains and write poetry. Instead, I'll replace modernity with the past, I'll leave mac lap tops and computers on 'sleep' mode and iphones safely hidden in the kitchen behind the doggie snack canister and focus on reading.

Yes, enough of slick brands, time to slip into the distant past and re-visit when eccentrics like Lord Berners met the father of modern art, the maestro to end all, the renowned impresario Serge Pavlovich Diaghilev.   

The biography by Mark Amory is worthy of your time if only to read his epitaph; Here lies Lord Berners/One of life's learners, Thanks be to the Lord/He was never bored.

Anything but facile, Lord Berners was detail oriented to the nth degree. Lord Berners; a man with pigeons died all the colors of the rainbow, his horse came to luncheon daily. A composer and writer, eccentric and enigmatic; alternatively silly, sparkling and touching. The Sitwells and Mitfords, Stravinsky and Gertrude Stein all came to stay and see the pigeons until the 'happening'.  

Until he met Diaghilev. Our Father of Modern Art, I could post blessay after blessay about Sergei and have, if only to vicariously live through the man that everyone came to meet, to perform with and for, the spirit that danced at the centre of any group he joined. Diaghilev dominated and drew Balanchine, Massine, Karsaniva, Nijinsky and Stravinsky, Picasso, Coco Chanel, Cocteau and Brecht, Rubenstein and all the rest. 

He visited and enjoyed a brief correspondence with Tolstoy. He grew up in Perm, his childhood home once described as the Athens of Perm. 

Marcel Proust attended two of Diaghilev's early performances, comparing the excitement surrounding Sergei and his group with the brouhaha sparked by a contemporary cause celebre, 'describing the season as a charming occasion, against whole seductions only the critics who were devoid of taste protested [and which] aroused Paris...with a fever of curiosity that was less bitter, more purely aesthetic, but perhaps quite as intense as the Dreyfus Affair.' 

When Pierre Bonnard, one of France's most prominent painters was asked whether the Russians influenced his work, he answered, "But they influence everyone."

Well, if the Russians get their act together regarding their internal resources, watch out world because they're smart and certainly tougher than others. More artistic than most and yet what I find most interesting about them is their canny sense of time. So contrary to my American need for instant gratification which seems to wane, as does my desire to acquire.

Through osmosis we may learn and let lovely art inspire us, encourage a read every now and then. A lovely exercise to put aside the present and dwell on the reference points that made our past so novel, so curious, not unlike escaping to the mountains and writing poetry. 

But without the hassle of travel. 

 

 

Lady Chatterly's Lover and Beckett: Bless Barney Rosset's heart.

Guardian:

Barney Rosset, who has died aged 89, was the most influential avant-garde publisher of the 20th century. He was also one of the boldest, in his willingness to question the laws governing censorship. His decision, as head of Grove Press, to challenge the ban on DH Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover in 1959 led to the novel being published legally in the US for the first time, a year before the British edition. Having won the battle, Rosset immediately set about bringing Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer to American bookbuyers. Another trial involved William Burroughs's Naked Lunch.

Among the first authors to be signed by Grove was Samuel Beckett, in 1953.

Frank Gehry and Vlado Milunic really put the cha cha cha in Prague

Caught some fun pics of the "Dancing Building", or the "Ginger and Fred building. This city, this state of mind, certainly does perform magic on the mind...

So nice to come home and see the sunset and some Klimt, crisp and yet soft...fantastic ambiance...

The Big Night happens to me every single day in a new country....

One of the funniest scenes in such a touching movie. Although it makes me laugh out loud mio marito cannot watch this film, for a myriad of reasons....yet somehow I think the Italians succeed, if not in the flic...

Salvador Dali

Whenever there's a chance to see his art, I'm there. Salvador Dali makes me feel so happy, always.  

Decades ago, before he died in '89, people still spoke about his art as much as whimsical antics. He was a serious surrealist, a technical virtuoso then a question mark was quietly put alongside his name.

Doubt he cared, a superb draftsmen, technician, master artist.  

Greg Proops; Smartest man in the world podcast, ctd.

My day is always a bit better when the Greg Proops app announces a new proopcast, this one's called Magnets.

Greg Proops references are gettin' wider, raunchier and wittier  than ever...that voice ringing and slinging just about every item skidding from the 60's into yesterday.

Rick Falkvinge's the rare player that's managed to legislate his passion and concerns for privacy and copyright law into Parliament, one country at a time.

On Rick Falkvinge's site you can read all about information policy and civil liberties in Europe and elsewhere in the world, if only we could channel Rick's ideas through the megaphone Alex holds across the pond, far more people would understand and appreciate those issues that directly impact their online lives. 

And like Alex, on this side of the pond, Rick is a force gathering momentum along with millions of fellow enthusiasts in search of all the latest data re SOPA, ACTA and PIPA. 

Speaking of...at first, the German government was a bit amused by Pirate Bay, now they're taking them seriously.

Greg Palast on Alex Jones; couldn't have said it better myself.

Other than Anonymous, there's too few making an impact. Too few modern day muckrakers, with their heart in the right place...alas, we have Greg Palast. 

His thoughts on Alex Jones align with my own. Alex is a force not to be denied, the most popular radio host on the internet in North America, nooooo dispute on that data...and the fact he showcased the women that run democrats against the UN agenda 21, two lesbians that are pro-choice proves he is on the side of the angels. He actually stopped talking for an hour. 

Go Greg, your book, Vulture's Picnic is doing well, as it should. Go Alex, go RON PAUL!!

Here's the link, apparently it does not want to play cut and paste. Greg Palast in Praise of Alex Jones

Praha; a little Roma, a little Parigi...

I keep saying it if only because it's true; Prague's a luxurious combination of Rome and Paris. Pretty, sad and architecturally magical like la lumiere; world weary, surreal and psychically complex like Rome.  

In Daniela Hodrava's "Prague, I see a city..." she writes, "It is said that Prague, the city in the basin cut in in two by the Vltava, is, like Rome, spread over seven hill."

When walking, taking the metro,  
the bus, the tram with a cool Czech chick, getting acclimated, addressing details or finding the stores and markets, where to buy lights, batteries, butter and bread and exploring by myself, with the kids, feels like Rome.

And Paris. The place we bank, below, with interior lights resembling those used for external use in other cities...we may only have enough currency to cover rent and local bills but the environs resemble Versailles. 

The view with the moon, from our terrace, give bliss.

The police are cool but better have your metro ticket stamped, armed with some kind of ID on your personage or 'whoop, whoop its da sound o da police', and the funny bit is, being from where I came from, it feels so eastern and otherly, the imagination conjures up all kinds of mischief, if only in the mind...

Alas, if you've taken care of business, you're fine. 

The metro, those long trips down the escalator, so long you could finish a novella, feels like London but far less claustrophobic, fewer people, it's easy to get about in this town.

The bohemian crystal lurks everywhere, banks, design stores

cafe's, much ado about art deco.

Like Rome there's plenty of graffiti, and just like Rome, doesn't bother me a twit
I'd rather see the kids vent their frustration through their 'art' than violence, and they do, although I saw a coupla kids giving an old guy an awfully hard time with soft snowballs the other day, but he fielded them fine, another way to while away the day.

This place, Bohemia, sort of surreal, like Lord Berners, the eccentric composer who had a house near Oxford where the pigeons were dyed all the colours of the rainbow.   

Bohemia...

Divinely inspired Pop and then some; John Lennon and Yoko Ono

Moving from Amsterdam to Prague allows past treasures in the form of books and photographs to re-surface and inspire attention.

Not unlike long term relationships, like emotions, items get lost, then found and this one made me particularly happy,  David Sheff's book called "All we are saying: The Last Major Interview with John Lennon and Yoko Ono."

A book about the miracle of a man; the mystic prince and the Oriental princess. When I say Oriental, I write the term in the deeply respectful manner of Edward Said. 

Back then, Yoko Ono was reviled, not only regarded as a manipulative bitch, the press crucified her. She was Lucifer and his minister Mephistopheles combined. It's insane in hindsight. She was just a completely independent soul, uniquely Yoko Ono.

Absinth; my lips begin to dance and my pencil got really, really big.

End of day and errands, happened to pass the oldest Absinthe bar...asked for the classic, she suggested I take a seat, sip it slowly and enjoy, so I did. 

Rosa Koire and Kay Tokerud; Democrats against UN AGENDA 21; "This is not a conspiracy theory, it is a conspiracy fact."

Who are these extraordinary women?

"We are civil rights advocates, pro-choice, and pro-gay marriage, who until recently considered ourselves 'progressive Democrats.'  We are university educated, middle income professionals who seek to make common cause with others in the United States who share our concerns."  

Excellent.

What's their story?

Divinely inspired Pop; Whitney Houston

I'm certain the obituaries will ebb and flow with equal amounts of judgment and praise.  Like Michael Jackson their top tier talent left us long before their bodies did; you don't soar to those heights without the gods of gravity playing their fickle game.

HBO; John Adams

Time to turn on HBO, if only to wash the taste of today's political theatre outta my mind. What a terrific 7 part series, chronicling the life of John Adams:

"...this remarkable historical figure, a man whose fiercely independent spirit, reverence for the rule of law and commitment to personal liberty profoundly influenced the values on which our country was founded.  

The miniseries also explores the extraordinary relationship between Adams and Abigail, his wife of 54 years, a partnership regarded as one of the most moving love stories in American history."

Now that's what I call an extraordinary husband and wife team. Interesting idea, that it was even made, showcasing this less than flashy guy, surrounded by all the cool ones who took away the spotlight; TJ, Ben, George, John Quincy and the gang. 

Of course, anytime Tom Hollander's in the cast, I'm happy. 

Amsterdam to Prague; from black and white to technicolor.

Who cares how or if one arrives, it's all about the process innit? And now that the boxes have arrived and left, I'm can get lost and explore this lovely state of mind, I can imbibe that kind of excitement that bursts each time you turn a corner and uncover another surprise.  

We live in Praha 2, it's central and wonderfully enough, it's finally snowed...who does not love that first flurry of flakes, the locals seems happy the white stuff has finally arrived.

Boing Boing; Be A Book Giver

"On April 23, 2012, tens of thousands of people in the U.S., U.K., Ireland, and Germany will go out into their communities to spread the joy and love of reading by giving away free books. All you have to do to participate is register by midnight EST tonight."

 

Cultural DNA and the British Costume Drama.

How do they do it. Perhaps its in their cultural DNA. Like acting. Their enunciation, that language. The English costume drama is displayed on film like no other.

In which other country is it so obvious. The Russian cultural DNA might reside in their poetry, their peculiar and superior discipline in almost anything having to do with the arts. If the Russians apply that discipline to mining their natural resources, it's all over people. Bow now. 

Prague; back to some serious cafe culture.

This place is just amazing. Everyone talks of the Bohemian glass and crystal and yet I'm far more blown away by the cafe culture; more Viennese than Parisienne, so specifically pretty; the chairs, the lighting.

And those pastries...

my family, our past, the future

Unpacking 192 boxes, again, inevitably lends to reflection as old photos arrive, tease the mind, make me smile and wanna skip down memory lane.

I can practically see the nostalgia kick in but the heart survives, a soft pain at first, then quickly lessens for what better way to move on in life then to honor ones past. Isn't this how the Goths or Visigoths prayed, by honoring their ancestors? Yes, I like that, that's my kinda faith. 

Of course one can pretend to be what they wish to become, why not, there's nothing quite as hopeful as the day following the one being lived; self-help and therapy provide so much promise, to so many.

And yet what about the past, we can't possibly deny how manners and the ability to focus created balance even as modern life, full of informality and distractions, expedites the chaotic nature of our collective lives.

Alas, reviewing the past can be an insightful exercise, the kind that carries emotional weight, enough to lighten the load in future.

Arrivederci Amsterdam; Ahoj Prague...

Opportunity knocked, good thing we were listening... 

Amsterdam was fine, a fun and young mentality, it certainly did provide the chance to get back on track, so we did. 

Holland being a practical place, we gave and got but Prague is located closer to our life, our heart, not to mention Northern Italy, which is part of our life and heart.

Ron Paul Really is the only anti-Romney

Contrary to MSM wisdom (oxymoron, you decide) it's already become a two-man race.

Of the 2,286 total Republican delegates, 1,144 are needed to win the nomination.

In five (5) States: Virginia, Missouri, Ohio, Tennessee and Illinois, Gingrich and Santorum are not even on the ballot. That’s 564 delegates they CAN'T get.

After South Carolina, only 59 delegates have been allocated to the 4 candidates. Mitt Romney has 39 of those. This means Santorum or Gingrich has to pick up 1,144 delegates from the remaining 1,683.

Dresden; Setting fire to a Jewel Box

I relish "live" history lessons, the ones learned while driving through Europe, the kind that unfold along with the landscape, either in a car or on a train. They tend to enter the mind and imagination slowly, gradually securing their seat in the psyche permanently.

These pieces of history are often sad, sometimes inspirational, others so devastating they blow the mind and fall heavily into the heart, forever. 

Yesterday we drove from Holland to Prague, across Germany, entering East Germany through 'the tunnel of unity', passing Leipzig, then arriving at Dresden; a cultural mecca for music, art and architecture, a city once called the "Jewel Box"...

...until Feb 13, 1945, that fateful and particularly cruel evening, when the allied forces bombed Dresden, when the British and American forces set fire to this Jewel Box, killing 57 thousand people in one night.

To suggest it was highly controversial is without debate.  

Boing Boing via O-Reilly Radar

The President's challenge: What more does government want — or deserve — from the tech world?

By Nat Torkington at 10:16 pm Monday, Jan 23

There's an old joke. Heavy rains start and a neighbour pulls up in his truck. "Hey Bob, I'm leaving for high ground. Want a lift?" Bob says, "No, I'm putting my faith in God." Well, waters rise and pretty soon the bottom floor of his house is under water. Bob looks out the second story window as a boat comes by and offers him a lift. "No, I'm putting my faith in God." The rain intensifies and floodwaters rise and Bob's forced onto the roof. A helicopter comes, lowers a line, and Bob yells "No, I'm putting my faith in God."

Well, Bob drowns. He goes to Heaven and finally gets to meet God. "God, what was that about? I prayed and put my faith in you, and I drowned!"

God says, "I sent you a truck, a boat, and a helicopter! What the hell more did you want from me?"

As SOPA looked shakier, the President handed a challenge to the technical community:

"Washington needs to hear your best ideas about how to clamp down on rogue Web sites and other criminals who make money off the creative efforts of American artists and rights holders," reads Saturday's statement. "We should all be committed to working with all interested constituencies to develop new legal tools to protect global intellectual property rights without jeopardizing the openness of the Internet. Our hope is that you will bring enthusiasm and know-how to this important challenge."

All I can think is: we gave you the Internet. We gave you the Web. We gave you MP3 and MP4. We gave you e-commerce, micropayments, PayPal, Netflix, iTunes, Amazon, the iPad, the iPhone, the laptop, 3G, wifi--hell, you can even get online while you're on an AIRPLANE. What the hell more do you want from us?

Take the truck, the boat, the helicopter, that we've sent you. Don't wait for the time machine, because we're never going to invent something that returns you to 1965 when copying was hard and you could treat the customer's convenience with contempt.

Republished with permission from O'Reilly Radar

 

 

Obama formally accepts party nomination at Bank of America

Obama to accept nomination at Bank of America stadium.

Makes sense....

What fresh hell has Israel wrought today...

Well, this month Atlanta Jewish Times writes it might be time to assassinate the President of the United States, if only to preserve Israel and head off a nuclear strike from Iran. 

A snippet:

In a Jan. 13 column, Adler, who is also the paper's publisher, outlined what he said were three possible responses by Israel to Iran's acquiring a nuclear weapon: a pre-emptive strike against Hamas and Hezbollah, terrorist groups that he said would be emboldened by a nuclear Iran; a direct strike on Iran; and "three, give the go-ahead for U.S.-based Mossad agents to take out a president deemed unfriendly to Israel in order for the current vice president to take his place, and forcefully dictate that the United States policy includes its helping the Jewish state obliterate its enemies."

He continued: "Yes, you read 'three' correctly. Order a hit on a president in order to preserve Israel's existence. Think about it. If I have thought of this Tom Clancy-type scenario, don't you think that this almost unfathomable idea has been discussed in Israel's most inner circles?"

Earlier in the month we read and watch as Orthodox Jews spit on 8 year old American girls in Israel. I know several Jewish women that are alarmed at their misogynistic behavior but this takes it to another level.

Inshallah; Hanaa Ben Abdesslem

Tunisian model Hanaa Ben Abdesslem has been announced as the newLancôme face, becoming the first Muslim model for the brand ever. 

Italian cruise ship nightmare.

The visual alone took my breath away.

This tragic news item inspired so many images, memories, having spent enough time sailing, cruising along various Italian coasts.  

I'm keenly reminded how much more dangerous life becomes the closer your boat floats towards land. 

Iron Lady; Meryl Streep's compassionate take on the conviction style politician.

I was surprised by how quiet the film felt, how The Iron Lady remained relatively silent about so many issues surrounding such a forceful and compelling woman. 

A good film, emotional, as much about its subject as it is about Meryl Streep's moving portrayal of Margaret Thatcher. 

Perhaps too obvious as I shake my head in endless admiration, regarding both the actress and politician: "What a woman!"

Streep is so technically brilliant it's impossible to deny her emotional insistence, her adroit ability of imposing a layer of warmth and meaning upon a woman intent on ideas, on change, on making her mark when women played such a minor role in political life.  

I remember Thatcher's era, having lived in London in the mid 80's. I may have lived less than a year but my time was filled with intense memories and events unfolding almost daily.

I had little clue let alone focus on my future, fantasizing about becoming a playwright after studying at the University of London for a semester, interning at a fringe theatre in east London. It was insanely fun and eerily stark at the same time; I was not only living with a card carrying labor party member and activist, a man known today as much for his mind as his acting ability, but I was surrounded by one very colorful and illustrious theatrical crowd. And yes, they almost all loathed Margaret Thatcher.

Ana Marie Coz and Melinda Henneberger; too few female political bloggers in DC...

I wondered where she went, that snarky chick, the one who started the political blog Wonkette. Such a clever girl, too elusive to categorize, having written the kind of blessays capable of inspiring love or hate and little in between; so deliciously low, left leaning and deeply satirical; american style.

Ron Paul: Perhaps we can't handle the truth.

Don't get me wrong, I understand perfectly well why people find Libertarianism a cold and harsh philosophy. It requires a massive amount of self-reliant behavior. 

If I hadn't grown up in Seattle I might not be as receptive, the Emerald City was such an entrepreneurial state of mind. I didn't know anyone that worked or relied on the government. I suppose that's part of the reason today's climate appears so startling, to realize the number of people that rely on the government; as client, or employer, to intervene on their behalf, to take care of them.

Rolling Stone's Matt Taibbi on the 2012 election.

Matt Taibbi always provides a great, easy, succinct read. The candidate with the most money wins. Ideas, pas importante. Precisely why Ron Paul is cast aside, Paul and his silly obsession with civil liberties. 

Glenn Greenwald; Progressives and the Ron Paul Fallacies

Absolutely fantastic article in Salon. A must read even if most won't...

Isn't that the truth, ctd...

"Whatever else one wants to say, it is indisputably true that Ron Paul is the only political figure with any sort of a national platform — certainly the only major presidential candidate in either party — who advocates policy views on issues that liberals and progressives have long flamboyantly claimed are both compelling and crucial.

The converse is equally true: the candidate supported by liberals and progressives and for whom most will vote — Barack Obama — advocates views on these issues (indeed, has taken action on these issues) that liberals and progressives have long claimed to find repellent, even evil.

(oh, and of course, at the end of the article, GG notes, of course, Obama signed the NDAA, a specific continuation of Bush/Cheney policy)

Bestiality and the NDAA; if you want to marry your donkey, now you can.

Not only can an American be murdered anywhere on the planet, without any rights whatsoever, apparently this bill also permits serviceman to have sex with a donkey, or whatever his pleasure.  This bill still awaits signature as of Dec 30th but it's expected to be signed by Obama.  Indefinite detention without trial, for everyone.

Ron Paul; At least he served his country.

 

No Hogmanay for moi.

Mio marito's too sick to travel so we've had to cancel our plans, we're no longer off to the UK for New Years. Flights were booked, dog-sitter set, alas, but no.

This makes me terribly sad for several reasons. When I, as an American get to engage in what feels like Gosford Park, (without the murder, certo) it's like going into the past, a perfectly pleasant past when England was great and manners meant the world. 

China and Japan; major currency wars, major deals, major signals.

Major news item outlining the latest drama in the currency wars. One can't underestimate the significance:

Globalization; good for the globe, not so great for the nation state.

It seems so swift, yet suddenly you can't help but notice, an entirely new tribe touring right alongside.

It happens so quickly. For example, a few years ago, Chinese tourists everywhere, so many more than before, enjoying the gorgeous environs of Northern Italy. 

In Venice, Verona and of course, Milan, so many Asians it was almost startling, if only because I hadn't seen so many Asians before, in Northern Italy.

Certainly a strong indicator of an emerging middle class. You can literally see their economic ascent, some moving full time to Italy, industrious, moving their lives, as we had a few years before.  

Yesterday we arrived back from Austria. While at the Spa, in Tirol, unlike our

last visit, we saw several Russians, their families having a great time, enjoying the thermal baths, they'd jump out of the pools, lay in the ice surrounding the outside baths, maximizing the benefits of the body circulation concept. A father or son would lay in the snow for as long as possible, teasing one another, goading for as long as possible, then diving back into the thermal pools. Fun stuff as most of the guests are German, the odd English couple, some Portuguese, several French.  

Salzburgerin on Bachmann and Palin: "Ze vimen are pretty but zer ugly yah?"

I love to visit cemeteries. Here in Salzburg the oldest Catholic one is called Petersfriedhof. It's uber elegant and atmospheric, allegedly the von Trapp family hid behind their ornate, black wrought iron gates.  Allegedly.

On Christmas Eve, after visiting familiar destinations like Cafe Bazar and Cafe Tomaselli with mio marito I wandered back into the cemetery, alone, mid afternoon.

I find them particularly interesting in Paris, Northern Italy, Germany and Prague, peaceful and solemn; a refuge to contemplate life and its cycles.

The Italians adorn their headstones with pictures of family members, the French express their respect with statues and effects, the Germans and Austrians boast pristine  arrangements atop the grave with fir branches, candles and pansies (they represent thought), lovingly tended to with miniature Christmas trees this time of year.

Salzburg; time to put the Salz back into the burg.

Haven't been back since 2009 but hit the salt mines this time.

The Hallein Mines are fascinating, claustrophobic and when I posted them on FB, I received some thoughtful messages from people that had family in other salt in other countries, people responsible for implementing safety measures, safer machinary.

I can assure you, getting on that little train and heading over 400 meters into the mountain made me appreciate the meaning in those private messages all the more...

Back @ the Aqua Dome in the Austrian Alps...

There are spas and then there's Aqua Dome. 

Time is best spent roaming outdoor thermals, from sulfur to salt to sprudel (lots of bubbles) floating in the circular pools until you can't handle admiring the Alps any more...

The other half of the spa is sauna central, no textiles allowed; a al nu, nacht, naked which takes time for this american prude to get used to, but I do, soon, gently eager to engage in every single item offered on the menu. 

How the Dutch deal with an economic crisis.

Recent conversation with Dutch friend at Chez Bay. 

Me: "So how's the economic crisis hitting Holland, I hear people are more grateful for their jobs these days, working longer than the traditional 9-5 five day work week. Historically pretty wealthy, work available for all, now, perhaps, not so much?"

He: "Well, one example, it used to be, when we were sick we would just call in and not come to work, now we go into work, they see we are sick, then send us home."

The UK and the US

Still a strong bond and so many movies to support said fact. Re-visited a personal fave last night called 84, Charing Cross Road.

Ann Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins are perfectly cast. The movie is nostalgic, dear and I'd forgotten all the lovely poems.  

Including this one by W. B. Yeats:

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

EU and UK; an arranged truce, until now.

Der Spiegel presents a calm and rationale way of looking at the Failure of a Forced Marriage". 

It was forced, of course, but if living in Europe for the past decade has taught me anything, its the lack of cultural overlap between the EU and the UK. 

Perhaps that little 'bridge' from London allows francophiles to imbibe in the Parisian lifestyle and vice versa, who doesn't love London. And Paris.

Deliciously shabby chic environs...

Amsterdam's Alice in Wonderful quality insists this city, or rather this village still boast a dizzying array of eclectic and funky shops.

Shops full of odd and random musical instruments, one replete with one-off antiques, the next full of creative holiday decorations, paraphernalia galore...finally I bought a little something at this store I've been walking by for almost a year, lovely, fun used stuff; sterling silver serving items, colorful crystal goblets, vases, its just fun to walk inside and imbibe the cluttered shabby chic environs...

Hillary Clinton channels the Manchurian candidate...

If you're not bombarded by the media, if you get some distance, like I do, from across the pond, she's become, her role, her voice, almost unbearable...what happened to Hillary...

Glenn Greenwald:

"Hypocrisy from the U.S. Government — having U.S. officials self-righteously impose standards on other countries which they routinely violate — is so common and continuous that the vast majority of examples do not even merit notice. But sometimes, it is so egregious and shameless — and sufficiently consequential — that it should not go unobserved.

Watching Europe in crisis...

...is like watching life in slow motion. Or this song.

Compelling and amusing in an existential sort of way. In that emphatically didactic Brechtian Kurt Wheil Threepenny Opera Mack The Knife kinda way.

And. Contrary to all the conspiracy theories, the anglo press, ecetera, ecetera, ecetera, Europeans have little issue with Germany running the money, in fact, they're all bending over backwards to follow their model.  

Melancholia; a religion reviews.

I found the latest film by Lars von Trier so visually stimulating, the topics so intriguing that after watching the movie I looked for movie reviews, if only to re-live it another way.

The articles appeared vague and confusing as if the topic of depression was too depressing to review. And then I tripped over a 'review' written by a Catholic in a weekly magazine called America. It's a lovely read as he avoids applying religious doctrine for much of the piece, ironically making it seem more 'christian' in both feeling and compassion. Refreshing in this random, violent world, filled to the brim with judgment.  

Paris; back in the land of 'amuse bouches'...

 

Pleasure and pain...

Life is being awfully kind at present as I get to spend another week in Paris. This trip combines biz and romance; separate biz, romance very much ensemble avec mon mari.  Prior pics from our prior address in Paris; a city that inspires like no other, other than Roma....

However, one has to balance the practical with the sublime and visiting la lumiere feels more fun; banking and business is easier in Amsterdam, which brings us to the banking crisis, naturally.

Italy's taking a beating, listening to outside analysis is pointless, no one understands Italy but Italy, we shall see...but its hard to watch the markets pound them at 7.8%. Comparing Italy, which is not bankrupt, to Greece and co, which is, appears pointless. Ireland wasn't, but they were forced to sign up to their banks debt, but banks, being banks, refuse to accepts losses.