d i z t o p i a

Welcome to Low-Quality Cellcam Photo Monday

Just a couple short bits today. Apparently someone else was annoyed at the use of "authoress" on the subway flyer I mentioned last week, as I saw the flyer had been judiciously corrected. Bravo, mysterious subway grammarian.

Secondly, I've been threatening for awhile to do a photo tour of Fordham Road, the bustling thoroughfare in the Bronx that I must traverse each day. It's a long, wide avenue that was massively developed in the 1920s, with an elaborate running facade on both sides of the street. There's evidence of some truly beautiful brickwork, arches, columns, etc., but the vast majority of it has been covered over with hideous modern signage. The old stuff peeks out here and there, and sooner or later I'll take an hour to walk up and down the street and get pics. But for now, I can at least offer this extremely crappy cellcam pic of the original facade of the "Aeolian Hall," uncovered by renovation (and no doubt about to get ripped off, plastered over, or smothered with a TJ Maxx sign or something). I can't find any details about what went on at this Aeolian Hall, though I figure it must be a reference to the Aeolian Hall (scroll down) in Manhattan, or to aeolian halls in general, being a sort of grand and spiffy name for a music/performance space. Tomorrow I'll bring my real camera to take a better shot for posting. Or maybe I'll just go ahead and do the whole photo-walk-tour. Try to stay safely back from the edge of your seat.

Today's Guest Pope: Antipope Felix V

Advantages: There hasn't been a historically recognized antipope in centuries, so bringing in the heavy would energize the faithful just like it does in professional wrestling. Felix V was the last antipope, and he clung to the antipapacy for ten years! And when he finally gave it up--grudgingly--they still made him a cardinal as a consolation prize. He also never really relinquished control of his earthly estates (he was duke of Savoy) while antipope, so he'd have certain philosophical concordances with the current American administration.

Disadvantages: Antipopes are not as scary-cool-evil as the Antichrist, as they're just popes who didn't make the cut (it's not like they run the Anticatholic Antichurch in the Antivatican, are enthusiastically in favor of birth control and gay sex, etc.). Plus, there are certain nutjobs of the Mel Gibson variety who think John Paul XII was an antipope, as was every pope since Vatican II. These people somehow elected their own pope in 1998: Pius XIII, aka Earl Havermacher. Ergo, the dark and sexy novelty of an antipapacy would be somewhat diminished for this faction.

Place in history: Will be remembered for trailblazing independence, status as world's first cartoon star.

If You Can Read This, You Are Almost Close Enough

I saw a flyer posted in the subway yesterday advertising a public talk given by some-some-somebody or other, and it described the person in question as an "Authoress/Lecturer". I don't care if "authoress" is a real word, it's still stupid. Why not "lecturette" while you're at it? And yes, I know it's the same as "actress," but I blame the Oscars for that one. Why do the Oscars give gendered awards in acting, but not in any other category? And shouldn't Hilary Swank have gotten "Best Actor" for Boys Don't Cry? What I'm really steamed about is that I took a picture of the offending flyer, but then didn't save it on my camera phone. Stupid camera phone. Where is my in-brain camera-communications uplink? And my jet-car, while I'm complaining? And my magic hat that converts bitching to money? Anyway, to the dumps.

Finally, something worse than "doing a Lynndie": doing a Schiavo. Also, you can waste serious voyeur time examining the last 40 images uploaded to LiveJournal. And here's Item #1 on my 2005 xmas list: the LED Scrolling Belt Buckle, shown above. Yes, it's programmable. I plan to buy a dozen and strap them on like bandoliers, chattering away in various linked conversations about how awesome I am. (via)

Nyrdl Madness allows you to fulfill your fantasy of exercising near Godlike power over the inexplicable progress of an angry styrofoam packing peanut. Something Awful presents a gallery of Choose Your Own Adventure books that never were, nor should have been. Speaking of things that should not be: Pat Robertson's Age-Defying Protein Pancakes, which is not the name of a ska band, yet. This music video for DJ R2D2 uses a strange photorealistic reality-bending technique that could be the next "bullet time"... look for it to pop up in commercials, oh, ten minutes ago. In a similar but more twitchy vein: Stop Motion Studies. Wordcount is a nifty toy that graphically illustrates the relative frequency of usage of various English words. And afterward, why not make use of your newly expanded mind to sing along with Homer Simpson. (via)

And I'd just like to close off the week with this Report to Shareholders. Please help me.

Today's Guest Pope: M1A2 Abrams Main Battle Tank

Advantages: 120mm M256 smoothbore gun, 12.7mm Browning M2 machine gun, two 7.62mm M240 machine guns, L8A1 six-barreled smoke grenade discharger. Depleted uranium armor. Honeywell AGT 1500 gas turbine engine. More impressive than Vatican's vaguely gay Swiss Guards. Directly responsible for killin' a whole lotta heathens.

Disadvantages: Nominally discontinued in favor of the Future Combat Systems initiative, which includes more integrated tactical networks, robot vehicles and soldiers, and other sci-fi military assets designed to turn against and efficiently annihilate the human race. Also surprisingly liberal on social issues.

Place in history: Will be remembered for longstanding, workhorse contribution to armed forces, adversarial relationship with media.

You May Have Already Won Four Consecutive Life Sentences in Beautiful Florence, Colorado!

So long, Eric Rudolph. After copping a guilty plea to avoid the death penalty, he gets to spend life without parole at the lovely Administrative Maximum United States Penitentiary in Florence. I think the picture above (courtesy of prison builders DLR Group) accurately captures the joyful, rehabilitative spirit of the facility. As Calvin Thorbourne, one of those injured in the Olympic bombing, notes, "He's not going to Camp Cupcake," a reference to the slightly less grim prison where Martha Stewart did her time. Mmmm, cupcakes.

Anyway, Rudolph released his own statement  as every nutjob has before him, and let it be said he's no Unabomber in the manifesto department. Still, after finding out he was major dope smoker, I guess it's no surprise he'd sneak a Zappa reference into his screed (see "Plastic people ..."). Sadly, there'll be no KB at the supermax. Despite his gloating about making the deal with the government just to deprive them of the pleasure of killing him, it's obvious he's scared shitless of dying just like everyone else. But he can find all kinds of excuses why he gets to decide who lives and who dies, but it seems there's never a good reason for Eric Rudolph to die. I happen to agree, as I look forward to the once-a-decade news items about his extended confinement. He's only a few years my senior, so I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time growing old together. I hear Colorado is great for skiing, and/or steadily going insane in a tiny concrete room!

Today's Guest Pope: Cardinal Polycarp Pengo

Advantages: Already has best name possible. Why choose a dry and dusty saint or former pontiff when you could just stick with "Pope Polycarp Pengo"? He would certainly be Polycarp I or Pengo I, so little chance of historical duplication (before or since). Would demonstrate clean break with vaguely redneck sound of "John Paul"-style pope names. Plus, he's black, so there's that. Really, most Catholics are cool and down by now, so it's almost an afterthought.

Disadvantages: Should not to be confused with ice-block-fixated penguin from Pengo video game, also pictured. A longshot for elevation to papacy at 125-1, in a dead heat with sinister-sounding Cardinal Ghattas of Egypt and Cardinal Jean-Baptiste Pham "My Main" Minh Mân of Vietnam, among other dark horses. "Dark" not because Pengo is black, OK? It's just an expression.

Place in history: Popularizes new affirmative rejoinder, "Hey, is the Pope Tanzanian?" First African pope since St. Victor. And maybe one other thing ... he's black! Boo! BLACK! Blackity B. McBlackerson! Now, don't you feel better?

Lonely Planet Hearts Club Band

Innaresting piece in this week's New Yorker by Tad Friend about Tony Wheeler, founder of the Lonely Planet travel guides. Though Wheeler and his wife Maureen are still majority shareholders in Lonely Planet, they have given up managerial control over the company and its books. Friend describes their general dissatisfaction with how their guides, recently redesigned and relaunched, have been pared down to more traditional guidebook fare (rather than the copious historical notes, social commentary, and joie-de-voyage that LP was once known for). There's even a cabal of former LP guidebook writers who have been reduced to passing nostalgic stories back and forth over the virtual campfire, recalling in a net discussion group how great it was in the great old great days of "unfettered travel and unedited prose, of princely royalties and heavy drinking and broken marriages." Now that's a positive progression.

I sympathize with Wheeler and his cohorts; even Friend waxes sentimental about when LP guides were a constant friend in his global backpacker phase. Unfortunately, it's hard to marry the practical concerns of a guidebook with the literary concerns of a travelogue. It's especially hard to do this in contemporary guidebook production, which of necessity involves a collaborative network of researchers, writers, editors, and so on to put a book together. Many people who start writing a guidebook are horrified when they realize the immense amount of really tedious detail work that a guidebook involves. I loved your rich metaphor describing the Eiffel Tower, mes ami, but when does it close on Sunday? And how long does it talk to walk to the top? And how much is the senior discount? Et cetera.

Ultimately, the LP books just went through the same transformation as any other travel guides: when they went mass market, they had to start marketing to the masses. Another thing that unnerves me is the article's description of Wheeler's touring style on a road trip through Oman. They drive and hike and run around quickly from site to site, barely taking the time for a toe-touch: "A few minutes into any museum or souk, you’d see Tony’s eyes turn glassy, and he’d twitch his map-of-Africa cap and say, 'On, on.'" And they were traveling for pleasure, supposedly, not updating a guide. I can't stand that sort of madcap rush when I'm traveling, either as a travel writer or a civilian. Sometimes you have to do it, but the quality of the work always suffers. It's telling that Wheeler & co. find several mistakes in the LP Oman guidebook, including a map that's so off-kilter that they end up "going ten miles per hour on a road that had narrowed to a sinister goat track, in a canyon that bore no trace of human passage." Have a great vacation, folks!

When I was on the coast of Belize a few years ago, I ran into a Lonely Planet researcher who had been contracted to write up three Central American countries in two weeks. That's soup to nuts on all three nations--entry and exit, major cities, touring those major cities, non-urban points of interest, everything. He said that he'd arrive in a city, go to the best hotel he could afford, then interrogate the hotel clerk or other guests about restaurants, other hotels, shopping, sights, etc. He'd go see a few places, then get pamphlets for the rest, and everything would go in the book as if personally verified, evaluated, and rated. Another day, another city. And so on. In retrospect, his methodology sounds a lot like Wheeler's -- covering a lot of ground quickly, but in such a hurry you have to question the depth and reliability of the information. Though LP guides are still well loved, especially by younger travelers, they've started to get a reputation in the industry for shaky data.

Equally telling is Wheeler's ironic dislike for tourists. At the end of the piece, he feels compelled to keep hiking up a mountain (leaving Friend and his own wife behind) just so he can get higher up the slope than another group of hikers. A travel guide writer who hates tourists makes about as much sense as a dining critic who hates restaurant-goers. You get the impression that Wheeler would love it if people would buy his books, love his prose, and then never actually go to these places, just so he could keep enjoying his lonely planet in unspoiled solitude.

Today's Guest Pope: Al Swearengen

Advantages: Fucking most likely to whip the Lord God's cocksucking house into proper goddamn functioning order. Will let it be known in no uncertain fucking terms that the slightest deviation from proper fucking catechism will result in serious mother-fucking consequences in this world AND the next.

Disadvantages: Certain less-than-enthusiastic cocksuckers, such as various and sundry hoopleheads and squareheads and even the fucking Celestials, for Christ's sake, may have a few doctrinal reservations. If so, fuck them. Cunts.

Place in history: Will be remembered for implacably increasing ratio of fucks to cocksuckers in everyday liturgy.

Inertia Uber Alles

This crisp and sunny spring weather is kryptonite to productivity, or even the flaccid joke masquerading as productivity required to blog. Not that I've been enjoying the weather directly. I'm still shackled to my L-shaped defensive revetment/hutch. But I think I've developed a permanent crick in my neck from turning my head to the right and gazing longingly out the window. Good thing my chair still swivels. Lookit the little coeds scampering to and fro! Hither and yon! Mostly fro and yon. I would like to get fro and yon as well, since to and hither currently blow. As usual, the frenzy of the first week back in the backwater has given way to the more typical workday pace resembling suspended animation aboard a giant starship loaded with sleeping pills and PBS transcripts, moving at the speed of pudding. Even my two nearest coworkers were absent today, until one showed up tardily (tard that she is). I did get caught up in a brief flurry of photocopying. That was the highlight of the morning. I haven't even accomplished much in the way of procrastination. Wish I had a front porch to rock on, or a no-good hound to cuss. Maybe I'll take up whittlin'.

Today's Guest Pope: The Chrysler Building

Advantages: Classic Art Deco style appeals to both traditionalists and futurists. Gargoyles/eagles near top make for a reassuring neo-Gothic cathedralesque touch. Long-closed Cloud Club on the 66th-68th floors could be renovated to emphasize heavenly clouds, rather than clouds of cigar smoke issuing from corpulent plutocrats. Monumental size will return church to days of fearing God and His earthly instrument rather than ineffectual brotherly love crap.

Disadvantages: Celebratory automotive detailing at odds with church's stand against crass materialism. Central appearance in deviant Cremaster 3 art film may give pause to Catholics who are less than receptive to stage directions such as "At that moment, the Apprentice's intestines prolapse through his rectum."

Place in history: Though only enjoyed status as world's tallest building for a few months, has good chance of remaining world's tallest pope.