I’m enjoying that phone conversations with my mom are my main conduit to what’s happening at the Olympics. “Both routines were beautiful. One was to the music from that ballet… you know the one with the evil swan. The other one was to ‘Scheherazade.”
Good news, forgetful witches! You might have spaced out on it yesterday and only remembered when you were falling asleep last night, but there are still TWO MORE DAYS to celebrate the Roman festival of Lupercalia.
Skipping this part this year.
Whenever I need to make myself laugh I think of the time my friend Ben got a slight concussion from falling off a car while playing ‘Starsky & Hutch grab-ass’ and the ER doctor, writing him a prescription later, asked him if he had any allergies and Ben said, “Yes, salmon.” I offer this on the off chance that you happen to be a young patrician Luperci who might later today, after being anointed with sacrificial blood “wiped off the bloody knife with wool soaked in milk,” be “expected to smile and laugh.” That can be awkward.
Dana and LeBrun on his birthday, Jan. 24, 1981.
"Perhaps the greatest sea serpentologist of all times was Antoon Cornelis Oudemans, a Dutchman who was by training an entomologist, specializing in acarology, the study of mites and ticks."
— Aie, so much there there. But mostly I like the idea that if everyone were to rank their favorite sea serpentologists, Antoon Cornelis Oudemans would top most people’s lists but not EVERYONE’s and so “perhaps.”
Being an idealist, I too wish that the world was better than I am. Like all the rest of my fellow men, I don’t want to live around people with no more principles than I have. My inner fineness is continually outraged at finding that the world is a whole family of Hurstons. Seeing these things, I have come to the point by trying to make the day at hand a positive thing, and realizing the uselessness of gloominess. — Zora Neale Hurston, Dust Tracks on the Road, page 229. (via emilyhouk)
I’m reading Caroline Alexander’s great book on the Endurance expedition and I keep flipping to this picture of second officer Tom Crean with puppiiiieees. (Photo by Frank Hurley.)
His Majesty Receives by William Holbrook Beard (1885)
Step off, rabbit!
I was once told by a children’s lit person that while it’s common for anthropomorphized animals to wear clothes in children’s book illustrations, that it’s much less common for the animals to be wearing shoes. But even when the animals do wear shoes, they never (almost never?) wear socks.
Remembered this bit from Grace Paley’s “Friends" today. Auld lang syne, motherfuckers.