Thursday, March 1, 2012
New in: Shoes
I love these Alaia inspired ankle boots from Romwe. As you probably already noticed I got them in 3 different colors (black, red and these ones). They are so comfortable and stylish at the same time and that is a combination that I really like ;)Have a great weekend!
MYANMAR PRESIDENT VOWS MORE DEMOCRATIC REFORM
MYANMAR PRESIDENT THEIN SEIN PROMISED
TO CONTINUE REFORMS TO DEMOCRACY
TO CONTINUE REFORMS TO DEMOCRACY
Naypyitaw, Myanmar (AP) - Myanmar President Thein Sein said Thursday that his government will build on the sweeping reforms it has begun over the last year, and will work hard to convince skeptics at home and abroad that it is truly committed to democratic change. The Southeast Asian leader made the comments in a speech to Parliament that came nearly one year after he took office as head of a new, nominally civilian government that replaced a long-ruling military junta but remains dominated by retired military officials following elections widely regarded as neither free nor fair. Since then, Thein Sein has overseen a wave of dramatic change that has shocked even some of the nation's fiercest critics. Those changes include freeing political prisoners, signing cease-fires with armed rebel groups, easing restrictions on the press and opening a dialogue with opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi.
"There are many more steps to be taken," Thein Sein says, and those steps include strengthening the rule of law, boosting private sector businesses and improving the impoverished country's basic infrastructure, which lags far behind much of the rest of Asia. Myanmar was controlled for nearly half a century by the army, which turned the country into a pariah state and ruled with an iron fist, confining Suu Kyi to 15 years of house arrest and jailing thousands of critics. Suu Kyi, a Nobel Peace laureate, is likely to win a parliament seat in the by-election, which many see as a test of the government's commitment to reform. Suu Kyi has said she fears that the military could undo the reforms, but has confidence in Thein Sein. "I think that the President is perfectly sincere when he said that he wanted to bring true democracy to Burma and he wanted to make all efforts possible toward achieving it," she told.
WHAT DO THE VEDIC TEACHINGS TELL US?
Rāja means king or the ruler. Here is also regulative principle. Why a king is accepted? Why a governor is accepted? Why a president is...? Even in this day of democracy - we have abolished the system of monarchy - but still, they select somebody to become a monarch, a king, or to occupy the post of the king. That is called president. Why? Because unless there is one head, or on the head of the government, who can actually control ... Therefore a certain man, qualified man, who is, who enjoys the confidence of the people, he is accepted as the king. This is the position. So such president, king, or the executive head, must be a saintly person. Therefore here it is said, parīksin nāma rājarsih. Rājarsi means those who are on the top of the government, he must be rsi, saintly person.
Missing Breitbart
Well, I guess most of you have heard that Andrew Breitbart is dead at age 43. I won't rehash all the good things that have been said about him. I think the thing I liked best about Breitbart was his absolute fearlessness about taking it to the left. The other day Mitt Romney in effect said he would not take it to Obama. This is why we will probably lose in November if Romney is the nominee.
No what we need is a rock ribbed conservative that will be pummeling Obama and the left, relentlessly, each and every day. Most people in this country are dense or stupid and need to have the travesty and disgrace called Obama pounded into their thick heads continuously. A presidential candidate with the tact of Andrew Breitbart is exactly what we need. Rest in peace, Andrew Breitbart. Tell the Almighty to send a bunch more just like you.
History of women has a lot of records written in this month
The month March bears a long colorful History of the women and lots of documentary, treaties and books have them recorded. To mark the month and its worthy history The Independent Television Service (ITVS) announced today that its Women and Girls Lead public media initiative will present in March a multifaceted set of activities for Women's History Month and International Women's Day.To engage audiences on multiple platforms, Women and Girls Lead will launch its inaugural online film festival, present three high-profile events in recognition of International Women's Day, and unveil a new interactive campaign website, womenandgirlslead.org. "We are thrilled to celebrate and elevate the work of those who are fighting to uplift women everywhere," said Sally Jo Fifer, ITVS President and CEO.
Lindale Library library authority declared that they have books about all the favorite and renowned women in the world. They have biographies all the way from A (Abigail Adams) to Z (Anissa Zamarron). Texas history buffs will also know that March, 1836 was an important month, with Texas Independence declared on March 2, and the fall of the Alamo on March 6.
The library has many books on Texas history to refresh your memory of those times. Next week is “Return Those Borrowed Books Week.” It goes without saying that we at the library would like to have our books back, but remember to return those that you borrowed from a friend or neighbor. They might not even charge you a fine. Some new arrivals at the library include “The Rope” by Nevada Barr; “Death of Kings” by Bernard Cornwell; and “Believing the Lie” by Elizabeth George. Tom Clancy’s latest is “Locked On” and “Raylan” is by Elmore Leonard.
We want to say Happy Birthday to one of the toddler set’s favorite authors—Dr. Seuss. In his honor, March 2 is “Read Across American Day.” So settle down with a favorite book from your library and enjoy the day.
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| Women who make and made history |
Cyclists: Eternal Victims, Perpetual Menaces
Do you have one of those drawers in your house that's full of random extension cords, obsolete cellphone chargers, and lengths of speaker wire and coaxial cable? If so, have you ever tried to extract one of those cables, only to find that the whole mass had become a single inextricable electronic dreadlock? Well, I have, which is why I can relate to the difficulty this would-be cockpit thief is having:
New York City's Most Untalented Bike Thief from ANIMALnewyork.com on Vimeo.
Ha, ha--the silly cyclist totally got crushed by a metaphor for progress.
Speaking of menaces to children, the electric bicycle is rapidly overtaking the standard human-powered replacement horse as the number one threat to children and pedestrians in New York City--at least as far as some local politicians are concerned:
"They are a nightmare for pedestrians,” said Lappin, joined by state Senator Liz Krueger on the steps of City Hall. ”My office receives constant complaints about them riding on the sidewalks, traveling opposite traffic, running red lights, just being reckless and dangerous.” Said Krueger: “Who will think of the mothers pushing carriages who are at risk for their lives?”
I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it's true that electric delivery bicycles are probably the most irritating two-wheeled conveyance in New York City. (It used to be brakeless fixie Nü-Freds, but they're like elderly people with walkers in comparison.) On the other hand, cracking down on electric bikes when drivers keep parking their cars on top of people's bodies with impunity is like yelling at the cat for clawing at the sofa leg while the dog is setting fire to the house. Anyway, we know what the single-most dangerous thing to children is in this city, and it ain't bikes (electric or otherwise):
Data show that deaths among children were more likely to occur from unintentional injuries than from intentional injuries (69% vs. 24%, respectively). Unintentional motor vehicle traffic accidents contributed the most to child injury deaths in NYC overall (25%), with more than three quarters of deaths occurring among pedestrians.
Nevertheless, electric bicycles are nothing short of a Lobsend for the city, since this current preoccupation should buy them at least a few more years before they finally have to deal with the whole pesky homicidal motorist thing.
Meanwhile, in Prospect Park, a "road sharing task force" is proposing removing one lane of car traffic to make more room for cyclists and pedestrians:
If you're from some other country you may be wondering why cars should be "sharing" a park with people at all, but don't worry--I'm sure one day we'll reach our goal of having a 100% people-free Prospect Park.
In any case, if all this talk of dead babies is getting you down, why not watch a documentary about people riding their bikes at night, as forwarded by a reader?
If the 1960s and '70s saw the advent of the American New Wave of cinema, then the 2010s will certainly be remembered as the age of the "Reiterative Documentary," a style of filmmaking which basically involves taking a simple activity and then having people describe it over and over again in a similar fashion. Actually, we used to have winter group rides at night in New York City too--that is until all the club Freds decided that riding inside was a more effective method of "training." (The modern New York City road cyclist ideally only rides a bicycle outside only for racing purposes.) Perhaps I'll make a documentary about it, after I finish my current project on the world's most expensive Haro:
Yeah, right. That bike totally jumped the shark by 1987, this one is way nicer.
New York City's Most Untalented Bike Thief from ANIMALnewyork.com on Vimeo.
Actually, now that I think about it, maybe it's less like the junk drawer and more like trying to eat a sinewy steak with a dull knife. In any case, I know the above moron is not the same person who stole my cockpit awhile back, since my thief was obviously a professional:
All it took to emasculate my Scattante was two cuts and a flick of the wrist to loosen the stem bolts. Of course, they say if you cut off a cockpit it just grows back bigger, and that's exactly what happened with mine:
As for whether this approach also works as a method of "natural male enhancement," I'm not sure, but I wouldn't recommend it.
Speaking of cockpits, the above image of my wide handlebars comes from my Academy Award-winning book trailer (it won in the "best self-whoring short film" category), and did you know a number of scenes in that trailer were shot from the back of my Surly Big Dummy?
(We took the kiddie seat off first since MC Spand-X couldn't fit in it.)
I'm sure you didn't know this, and I'm even more sure that you couldn't care less. However, the most fulfilling aspect of owning a Big Dummy or indeed any cargo bike is annoying other people with constant updates on how we're using them:
"I filmed a movie off my Big Dummy."
"I carried 150lbs of organic carrots on my Kona Ute."
"I put my three kids with last names for first names in a bakfiets and took them to Montessori school for future hipster training."
And so forth.
You can tell us you don't care, and you can tell us to shut up, and you can even throw up all over us, but we'll never stop because smugness feeds on disgust like that slime fed on anger in "Ghostbusters II." This is also the driving force behind the entire city of Portland, OR, and the more you hate them the more powerful and hairy they become.
Speaking of hate, numerous and many peoples have electronically mailed me a link to the following "Official Bicycle Safety Manual" from the Nineteen-Hundred and Forties time period of time:
If you're familiar with the Cook's Chicken scene from the movie "Ghost World" you know that prejudice never really disappears; rather, it just becomes more adept at concealing itself. Similarly, in America we still believe that cyclists are suicidal fools who don't have the sense to get out of the way of the cars, only back in the 1940s we were a lot more straightforward about it:
(Wow, sucks for Mary.)
I particularly like the "White Man's Burden" tone of these cartoons--as though the gracious motorists are doing all they can not to kill the poor cyclists but they just insist on dying anyway.
Of course, cyclists aren't just stupid and defenseless, and paradoxically they're also maniacal baby killers:
(That baby really should have been wearing a helment.)
This idea too has survived into our present day:
For quite some time I've been wondering why Americans consider bicycles a menace to children when the fact is they only possess a tiny fraction of the sheer baby-killing power of the automobile. Finally though I realized what it was. See, there's one thing Americans despise more than anything else--including dead babies--and that's weakness. Bicycles are weak, and cars are strong. Therefore, we can live with our children getting killed by strong stuff like cars and guns (which happens all the time), but the very thought of one dying because of some "woosie" on a bike (which happens basically never) is an affront to our sensibilities. It's perfectly fine to die in America, just as long as you do it like a man.
Anyway, as great as all these cartoons are, this one may be my favorite:
Ha, ha--the silly cyclist totally got crushed by a metaphor for progress.
Speaking of menaces to children, the electric bicycle is rapidly overtaking the standard human-powered replacement horse as the number one threat to children and pedestrians in New York City--at least as far as some local politicians are concerned:
I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it's true that electric delivery bicycles are probably the most irritating two-wheeled conveyance in New York City. (It used to be brakeless fixie Nü-Freds, but they're like elderly people with walkers in comparison.) On the other hand, cracking down on electric bikes when drivers keep parking their cars on top of people's bodies with impunity is like yelling at the cat for clawing at the sofa leg while the dog is setting fire to the house. Anyway, we know what the single-most dangerous thing to children is in this city, and it ain't bikes (electric or otherwise):
Data show that deaths among children were more likely to occur from unintentional injuries than from intentional injuries (69% vs. 24%, respectively). Unintentional motor vehicle traffic accidents contributed the most to child injury deaths in NYC overall (25%), with more than three quarters of deaths occurring among pedestrians.
Nevertheless, electric bicycles are nothing short of a Lobsend for the city, since this current preoccupation should buy them at least a few more years before they finally have to deal with the whole pesky homicidal motorist thing.
Meanwhile, in Prospect Park, a "road sharing task force" is proposing removing one lane of car traffic to make more room for cyclists and pedestrians:
If you're from some other country you may be wondering why cars should be "sharing" a park with people at all, but don't worry--I'm sure one day we'll reach our goal of having a 100% people-free Prospect Park.
In any case, if all this talk of dead babies is getting you down, why not watch a documentary about people riding their bikes at night, as forwarded by a reader?
If the 1960s and '70s saw the advent of the American New Wave of cinema, then the 2010s will certainly be remembered as the age of the "Reiterative Documentary," a style of filmmaking which basically involves taking a simple activity and then having people describe it over and over again in a similar fashion. Actually, we used to have winter group rides at night in New York City too--that is until all the club Freds decided that riding inside was a more effective method of "training." (The modern New York City road cyclist ideally only rides a bicycle outside only for racing purposes.) Perhaps I'll make a documentary about it, after I finish my current project on the world's most expensive Haro:
Yeah, right. That bike totally jumped the shark by 1987, this one is way nicer.
The Universe reminds you of what you love, and what's most important to you!
Davy Jones died yesterday.
When I heard the news over the radio, I have to admit, it took my breath for a second. Unlike certain other celebrities, no one saw this coming. As a kid I watched The Monkees every single day in syndication growing up, and as I realized I knew every word to every song that played continuously on the radio, I also realized that they were just as much a part of me and my life as your dear Uncle Charlie or whoever may have been for you.
As a vagabond, moving to a new place in a new neighborhood, surrounded by new people every year (we averaged a move every 8 months for a time) there was never a feeling of stability as a kid, never that sense of home, a place you knew you belonged, fit it. And so my home became the shows, the movies, the characters that I could tune in to every day, the ones I always knew would certainly be there, no matter where I happened to find myself.
And so, Davy Jones, The Monkees, and all of many made up people and places pouring into my living room became my friends, my family. These are all I've ever known as home. For an American Mutt like myself, with no real culture to lean on, these imaginings became my culture as well.
People never quite understand how I know as many movies and shows as I do, and I've been criticized in the past for using fictional characters as someone or something to look up to. Looking back on it now though, through that scope of what these things, these people have and still do mean to me, its no wonder that I love the movies, love stories, love characters so much.
And I know that many of you reading this have felt the same way. As Joseph Campbell once said, this is our Ethos, out American Culture, the way we do things. You can't separate them from us, from who we are. And thus, we all feel that pang in our hearts, the same as with a relative, when members of our adoptive "families" die. Part of us, the best parts of us, die with them.
I was critical of the attention that Whitney Houston received when she passed, not because it wasn't sad (I can't lie, every time one her songs comes on the radio.... I know all the words to those as well, and I marvel at how incredible she was), but the way that we live and the example we set for others are every bit as, and probably even more so, as important as the accomplishments we come to have in life.
In the end she looked more like James Brown than the stunning beauty she was, sounded more like The Kurgan, and completely destroyed whatever legacy she had built. Its that last despicable image of her that will forever endure in my mind, and the reason I can not celebrate her life as I do Davy Jones.
When I think of Davy Jones, he always brings me back to better times, to the home I never had, a home in my heart, and returns a smile to my face.
The 84th Academy Awards was held the other night, further reminding me how much I really do love films, and as it always does, it left me wondering why they even bother having nominations in the first place if they're only going to give every award to the same film. Hugo cleaned up, doing so in categories that I didn't think it should have gotten credit for over the given competition. But I hadn't seen the movie yet.
So last night when I had the opportunity to rent it, I did so. My night consisted of a great New York Knick Basketball game, who's recent resurgence due to Linsanity has also reminded me of my love for my hometown team, a nice dinner, a good movie and some light reading before bed. If I had spent a night like this with my girlfriend, as I had so many times before, I would have considered it a perfect night. Add in a little grown and sexy time, and that's just about my idea of heaven.
Its been a long time now since I've had one of those nights with the right special lady, however, and it was such a marked difference that it was noticeable. Those holes in your heart are hard to fill, even when what you would normally love is all around you. And as if that wasn't enough to hammer home the point, an old flame who I loved very much got married that very night, and officially announced it.
Hugo, as it turned out, is an absolutely excellent movie which probably should have won many awards, even if I still don't think it should have taken home certain categories. It paid homage to early giants and inspirations of the film industry, but it was so much more than that, it was a story of how the universe has a way of reminding us of the loves on our life, and in our life; how the universe always reminds us of what is most important to us, and brings us back to them somehow, in ways we never could have seen.
Its funny how that always works out.
Later People!
When I heard the news over the radio, I have to admit, it took my breath for a second. Unlike certain other celebrities, no one saw this coming. As a kid I watched The Monkees every single day in syndication growing up, and as I realized I knew every word to every song that played continuously on the radio, I also realized that they were just as much a part of me and my life as your dear Uncle Charlie or whoever may have been for you.
As a vagabond, moving to a new place in a new neighborhood, surrounded by new people every year (we averaged a move every 8 months for a time) there was never a feeling of stability as a kid, never that sense of home, a place you knew you belonged, fit it. And so my home became the shows, the movies, the characters that I could tune in to every day, the ones I always knew would certainly be there, no matter where I happened to find myself.
And so, Davy Jones, The Monkees, and all of many made up people and places pouring into my living room became my friends, my family. These are all I've ever known as home. For an American Mutt like myself, with no real culture to lean on, these imaginings became my culture as well.
People never quite understand how I know as many movies and shows as I do, and I've been criticized in the past for using fictional characters as someone or something to look up to. Looking back on it now though, through that scope of what these things, these people have and still do mean to me, its no wonder that I love the movies, love stories, love characters so much.
And I know that many of you reading this have felt the same way. As Joseph Campbell once said, this is our Ethos, out American Culture, the way we do things. You can't separate them from us, from who we are. And thus, we all feel that pang in our hearts, the same as with a relative, when members of our adoptive "families" die. Part of us, the best parts of us, die with them.
In the end she looked more like James Brown than the stunning beauty she was, sounded more like The Kurgan, and completely destroyed whatever legacy she had built. Its that last despicable image of her that will forever endure in my mind, and the reason I can not celebrate her life as I do Davy Jones.
When I think of Davy Jones, he always brings me back to better times, to the home I never had, a home in my heart, and returns a smile to my face.
The Kurgan from the film "The Highlander"
The 84th Academy Awards was held the other night, further reminding me how much I really do love films, and as it always does, it left me wondering why they even bother having nominations in the first place if they're only going to give every award to the same film. Hugo cleaned up, doing so in categories that I didn't think it should have gotten credit for over the given competition. But I hadn't seen the movie yet.
So last night when I had the opportunity to rent it, I did so. My night consisted of a great New York Knick Basketball game, who's recent resurgence due to Linsanity has also reminded me of my love for my hometown team, a nice dinner, a good movie and some light reading before bed. If I had spent a night like this with my girlfriend, as I had so many times before, I would have considered it a perfect night. Add in a little grown and sexy time, and that's just about my idea of heaven.
Its been a long time now since I've had one of those nights with the right special lady, however, and it was such a marked difference that it was noticeable. Those holes in your heart are hard to fill, even when what you would normally love is all around you. And as if that wasn't enough to hammer home the point, an old flame who I loved very much got married that very night, and officially announced it.
Hugo, as it turned out, is an absolutely excellent movie which probably should have won many awards, even if I still don't think it should have taken home certain categories. It paid homage to early giants and inspirations of the film industry, but it was so much more than that, it was a story of how the universe has a way of reminding us of the loves on our life, and in our life; how the universe always reminds us of what is most important to us, and brings us back to them somehow, in ways we never could have seen.
Its funny how that always works out.
Later People!
Negative Signalling
Have you seen a peahen? Peahens are female peacocks, though they bear no resemblance to their famous mate whatsoever, being small, shorttailed and a drab brown color. It's the male of the species that is far more gaudy.
One may wonder why would the peacock have such a large, colorful and cumbersome tail?. Wouldn't it make him far more vulnerable to predators? The answer is that it does! And it is precisely that fact that attracts the peahen; he can still survive in the jungle despite this handicap, so he must be a strong yet agile fellow and thus a worthy mate.
The emperor's crown serves the same purpose: he shows his status by proclaiming "Look! I can wear such a large, heavy and useless object because everyone else is here to protect me," thereby he is obviously the most important person around.
If we observe carefully, we can see this principle of "negative signalling" all around us. Look at girls who write blogs or post online. Many girls like to proclaim "I have bad temper/I'm a princess/I'm not easy to take care of." One would expect people to tend to hide their weaknesses online, yet they do not. The reason for this is simple - it is in fact a form of bragging that "despite my bad temper there is still a man (or many men) ready to take care of me and love me. I must be very desirable!"
Of course, the female of the species is not the only one using this tactic. Many men strut around proclaiming "I'm a bad boy" or "I'm a heartbreaker". This is meant to show that "despite my playboy tendencies I'm charming enough to make tons of girls fall for me". Personally I find this even more hilarious than the female version due to its lack of subtlety.
No one would ever self-proclaim a real weakness on the dating market, eg:
Men:
I'm not very smart and have zero ambition
I'm a big coward
My dick is less than two inches in length
Women:
My boobs are padded with multiple layers and I need a ton of makeup every morning to look presentable
(other variations on the same theme)
So when someone proclaims a weakness in public, it is very often negative signalling.
One may wonder why would the peacock have such a large, colorful and cumbersome tail?. Wouldn't it make him far more vulnerable to predators? The answer is that it does! And it is precisely that fact that attracts the peahen; he can still survive in the jungle despite this handicap, so he must be a strong yet agile fellow and thus a worthy mate.
The emperor's crown serves the same purpose: he shows his status by proclaiming "Look! I can wear such a large, heavy and useless object because everyone else is here to protect me," thereby he is obviously the most important person around.
If we observe carefully, we can see this principle of "negative signalling" all around us. Look at girls who write blogs or post online. Many girls like to proclaim "I have bad temper/I'm a princess/I'm not easy to take care of." One would expect people to tend to hide their weaknesses online, yet they do not. The reason for this is simple - it is in fact a form of bragging that "despite my bad temper there is still a man (or many men) ready to take care of me and love me. I must be very desirable!"
Of course, the female of the species is not the only one using this tactic. Many men strut around proclaiming "I'm a bad boy" or "I'm a heartbreaker". This is meant to show that "despite my playboy tendencies I'm charming enough to make tons of girls fall for me". Personally I find this even more hilarious than the female version due to its lack of subtlety.
No one would ever self-proclaim a real weakness on the dating market, eg:
Men:
I'm not very smart and have zero ambition
I'm a big coward
My dick is less than two inches in length
Women:
My boobs are padded with multiple layers and I need a ton of makeup every morning to look presentable
(other variations on the same theme)
So when someone proclaims a weakness in public, it is very often negative signalling.
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