Hall and Oates’ “Kiss on My List” is one of the last great keyboard driven pop songs.
The new Hillary Clinton “scandal” will prompt Maureen Dowd’s 1099th to 1121st columns on the Clintons.
The use of hyperbole to sustain an intellectually flimsy argument is a fairly common practice among journalists.
Did you know there’s an “emo rap” musical genre? I’m sad just thinking about it.
Maureen Dowd’s 1098th column on the Clintons is a doozy.
Hillary’s inability to dispense with brass-knuckle, fanatical acolytes like Brock shows that she still has an insecure streak that requires Borgia-like blind loyalty, and can’t distinguish between the real vast right-wing conspiracy and the voices of legitimate concern.
Unfortunately, it is a variation of every column she’s written on the Clintons. But least we know the thoughts are hers alone (not borrowed from someone else).
Mr Netanyahu is apparently clueless about that fact that he’s being used by Mr Boehner, who is a risible failure as Speaker of the House of Representatives, mocked by conservatives and pitied by liberals who aren’t prone to slow down and stare at traffic accidents.
The problem with the New Republic article on the Chapel Hill murders is that it fails to mention any instances (empirical instances) of violent extremism among atheists other than the gun collector in North Carolina. Reference to books by Dawkins et. al and public opinion polling as a sign of extremism is specious. However, the title of the article is good click bait for the New Republic, which has undergone a massive editorial upheaval in recent months.
Marx’s line in The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, “here the content exceeds the phrase,” seems to apply to the historical practice of Christianity in relation to the nice words about loving each other and one’s enemy. Both violence and charity have been equal parts of the very nature of Christianity for much of its history. Physical violence has been largely reined in in the post-Enlightenment era.
It has probably already been mentioned before but isn’t there something ironic about a voluntarily celibate man (Pope Francis) decrying the “selfishness” of those who choose not to have children.
Kanye West unveiled his new line of zombie couture at New York Fashion Week.
David Carr was the last great American journalist: not posh, worldly, insightful.
The Devil is quite an attractive character, it is doubtful He will leave the stage of the human imagination anytime soon. I rather enjoyed the depiction of the Devil as a dandy in the film “Constantine” (although, technically He’s credited as Satan).
I take Constantine’s Devil/Satan as a dandy because of the white suit and the rakish display of tattoo creeping above the shirt collar. I wouldn’t quibble if one called Him a popinjay though.
Journalists can’t demand transparency from everyone but themselves without falling into self-serving hypocrisy.
Wikileaks advocates transparency but seeks privacy when it’s convenient, a performative contradiction.
Syriza are the hoplites of prosperity.
Pundits say Syriza’s victory is a defeat for Germany. However, one should never underestimate Ms Merkel. She’ll pull her euros out of the fire yet.
The Church of England finally has a female bishop. 481 years in the making.
Jack Conte’s account of the the losses sustained by the band Pomplamoose on its recent tour is a slap in the face to the primitive accumulators (i.e., libertarian downloaders, also known as pirates) who want their music free of cost and don’t care a whit about the cost of production of content. More power to Pomplamoose.
Like Perez Hilton, Emily Gould trafficked the cheapest cultural commodity: the information of the boulevard. Now she has become a commodity herself, a plaything for the savage minds of the new(est) journalism.
Print journalism happily bathes in the digital cesspool.
I’m surprised Hilary Mantel bothers to respond to the rabble who criticize her short story “The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher.”
La laïcité ou Barbarie.
Concerning the demise of The New Republic (which reads like a script from the “The Newsroom”), Ross Douthat accurately captures the difference between the old and the new(est) journalism.
The New Republic as-it-was, the magazine I and others grew up reading, was emphatically not just a “policy magazine.” It was, instead, a publication that deliberately integrated its policy writing with often-extraordinary coverage of literature, philosophy, history, religion, music, fine art.
It wasn’t just a liberal magazine, in other words; it was a liberal-arts magazine, which unlike many of today’s online ventures never left its readers with the delusion that literary style or intellectual ambition were of secondary importance, or that today’s fashions represented permanent truths.
Unlike our era’s ascendant data journalism, it also never implied that technocracy was somehow a self-sustaining proposition, or that a utilitarianism of policy inputs and social outcomes suffices to understand every area of life. (And unlike many liberal outlets, in its finest years it published, employed and even occasionally was edited by people on the right of center — something some of us particularly appreciated.)
So when we talk about what’s being lost in the transition from old to new, print to digital, it’s this larger, humanistic realm that needs attention. It isn’t just policy writing that’s thriving online; it’s anything that’s immediate, analytical, data-driven — from election coverage to pop culture obsessiveness to rigorous analysis of baseball’s trade market.
Unfortunately, we’ve reached peak honey bee just at the moment when gourmet honey has become the next big thing.
In the genre of guilt trip journalism, this is a weak effort.
Every renunciation of violent desires, of whatever magnitude, contributes to the advance of civilization.
Regarding Windows 10: Microsoft still does clunky and bloated better than anyone else.
Never place bigots in charge of content.