the thing about presidential portraits is that they usually aren’t all that exciting. partly [SWEEPING GENERALIZATION] possibly perhaps because there haven’t really been presidents who were particularly interested in art or in portraiture as an art form.
be real: do you remember bill clinton’s presidential portrait?
our old friends, butofcourse 🙂
if we’re having a reckoning, hey, let’s look at biography.
this is edward klein:
we need to talk about him.
when you say for years and years that someone , eventually they will and you will be right. HAS TO MARRY
so harry will marry. as was probably likely all along as royals usually eventually do.
ok, ya’ll, let’s do this. and to do this we (obviously) need my emotionally incontinent face twin, ms britney.
a lot has happened since we last spoke.
for example, the
new york times published this piece on harvey weinstein.
new yorker published this substantially less well written piece on harvey weinstein.
new yorker published a follow-up story on harvey weinstein.
new york times published a follow-up story on harvey weinstein.
many, many women posted on social media about their own experiences of sexual assault and sexual harassment.
there was some exceedingly valuable writing on the matter from all over the internet which i will not even attempt to condense here.
this piece on kevin spacey.
assorted other venues posted articles on kevin spacey.
to say nothing of
brett ratner, mark halperin, leon weiseltier, george hw bush, ben affleck, dustin hoffman, etc.
so, like an amazingly enormous amount of stuff happened. but we’re not here to talk about that.
well, well. so it’s one of those mornings where i went to bed thinking i’d write about one thing and woke up to discover i needed to write about something else.
because last night this struck me as nothing, beyond its imminent usefulness to me.
in still relevant things written in 2011 for a website that is now defunct…
Few stories capture the glory and darkness of the “American Dream” so eloquently as that of Elvis Aron Presley.
i work in a bookshop.
in many ways, it is deeply lovely. but the level of sexism one encounters working in a bookshop is STAGGERING, fyi.