In Variety, Peter Bart starts a thought-free think piece on Jill Abramson thus:
California is the worst run state in the nation--or so says an extensive survey at 24/7 Wall Street. Here's how they put it.
For years I enjoyed reading the Becker-Posner Blog. Every week the boys would each write a mini-essay on some topic in their pithy, no-nonsense style.
"It is said that the problem with the younger generation — any younger generation — is that it has not read the minutes of the last meeting."
According to the LA Times, It looks like former Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer may be buying the Los Angeles Clippers. He's made a $2 billion bid, considerably more than David Geffen's second-highest offer of $1.6 billion.
"His Holiness has been in deep meditative state since 29th January 2014."
There's talk that Hulu will host a sixth season of Community. The show never rated well in its five years at NBC, but it's got one of the most rabid fan bases in the world, and was among the highest-rated show of Hulu's rebroadcasts.
Happy birthday, Gary Brooker. He's a founder of and singer and songwriter for Procul Harum. They've recorded over ten albums but are mostly known for a few singles.
So ColumbusGal puts herself to sleep watching ridiculous old TV shows--say, Columbo. Or Frasier. Or Mary Tyler Moore (no judgment LAGuy, great show). And it seems inevitable that it would happen eventually, Cheers.
"On My Way" by Joseph Horowitz is a book we may not need but I'm glad we have. It's 250 pages mostly about how we got Porgy And Bess on Broadway in 1935. The show is considered one of the high points of the American musical, and American opera, but I don't think millions were demanding to find out what was behind the original production.
John Fogerty turns 69 today. He blazed pretty hot for a few years as leader of CCR, and then did some decent work as a solo.
"He was articulate. He was polite. He was timid."
Larry Kramer's play The Normal Heart caused quite a stir when it opened off-Broadway in 1985. Kramer, a writer and activist, tried to put on stage the devastating impact of the AIDS epidemic, and did a lot of finger-pointing along the way. Now he's adapted his play for HBO, starring Mark Ruffalo and Julia Roberts, directed by Ryan Murphy. And though it's received wide acclaim, I'm not sure how well the drama has held up.
Happy birthday, Cilla Black. Her name means nothing in America, but back in the UK, where she's from, she had a bunch of hits in the 60s. And several of those came from the Lennon-McCartney songbook:
So we're at the end of the half-season on Mad Men. That came fast. And "Waterloo," after giving us a solid hour of fine entertainment, ends with one of the biggest WTF moments the show's ever had.
There aren't too many names in jazz that mean more than Miles Davis. Happy birthday.
Glenn Reynolds always says "Faster, please" whenever there is news from the front on the biology wars, and now he's delighted that doctors have succeeded in suspended animation.
Norm Ornstein has written a dumb article in The Atlantic. It's one of those partisan pieces masquerading as an objective argument--we need term limits for the Supreme Court because for some reason that will cut down on its polarization, when it seems more likely all Ornstein cares about is kicking off the conservatives who have been enjoying a (paper thin) majority for a while. (Ornstein is one of those people who claims to fight for non-partisanship by getting everyone to join the side he supports.) But we expect this sort of argument whenever people write about the Supreme Court--they say they're fighting for a principle, and it's just a coincidence this alleged principle will mean the Court decides cases the way they want. Here's the despicable part:
Like a lot of rock stars, Johnny Burnette died young from an accident. But if he had lived, he'd be 80 today*.
Good news, everyone. The "Playground Pooper" of Ypsilanti has been caught. The investigation has been going on for over half a year to find the person who's been leaving feces (his own, presumably--and yes, I'm assuming it's a male) on slides in local parks. Why did it take so long? Perhaps he'd been laying low for a while:
Happy birthday, Bob Dylan. What can I say?
The final season of Mad Men is set in 1969. I'm sure they've asked themselves how can they capture the mood of that long-gone era. As noted below, there were new sounds, like the Moog synthesizer, that conjure up a certain sense of what is was like.
Robert Moog (pronounced Mohg), inventor of the Moog synthesizer, was born 80 years ago today, so let's have a properly synthetic celebration.
How completely odd this is. Less than a few days after Sunstein takes down Epstein and the Tea Party, Sunstein tea bags it:
When I was a kid we had an audio/visual club in our school and, if I recall, it didn't have any girls. I don't think there was an official rule, but setting up film strips and the like was considered something mainly of interest to boys. (Whether you'd call it sexism or not, it wasn't as if this was considered a great position--it was something for nerds to do.)
Several years ago Congress passed some resolution or other saying that if any of the laughable-if-it-weren't-so-tragic "international law" jurisdictions sought to lay hands on U.S. soldiers to prosecute them, that the U.S. military would intervene. Of course it was all about Iraq, but it could have been anything. NPR interviewed some nobody in Belgium who was quite outraged and wondered if the Marines would attack Brussels.
Two excellent hours of TV on Sunday. Both Mad Men and Game Of Thrones were at their best.
The only important question here is, did Cass suggest the headline? (And if so did he do it through Dick Windsor?)
Happy birthday, Judy Kuhn. She's been working in Broadway musicals since the 1980s, but may be best known as the singing voice of Pocahontas.
Congratulation to Switzerland for rejecting the world's highest minimum wage. And the vote on the referendum wasn't close--the citizen rejected it over 3 to 1.
Happy birthday, Pete Townshend. The Who was four individuals, but if there was a leader, it was you.
In a post on antibiotics research from Megan McArdle we get this:
Happy 70th, Alert Hammond. He wrote, sang and produced a lot of fun records.
Anthony Lane's New Yorker review of Chef (which is doing pretty well for a small release) ends thus:
Years ago conservative historian Paul Johnson published an hysterical book entitled Intellectuals. It examines the lives of many important philosophers and artists, finding them, in general, to be hateful, foolish, cheap, nasty and filthy. Oh yes--most of them were secular leftists, i.e., Johnson's arch enemies. So there it is, page after page on one thinker's inability to pay his debts, another obsessing about his penis, another failing yet again to bathe.
If we needed any additional evidence that there is no education system in the US, this is it:
About Alex will be opening theatrically and on demand August 8, according to The Hollywood Reporter. Haven't heard of it? Well then, I guess you missed its debut at the Tribeca Film Festival this year.
Happy birthday, Isaac Holt. He was the drummer in the Ramsey Lewis jazz trio and then became part of the Young-Holt Trio and Young-Holt Unlimited.
What would George Washington have to say about this? Canada is kicking our arse, for chrissakes.
Guess who I've been getting mail from? Sandra Fluke. You remember her. She was the 30-year-old law school student who needed help from the government to get birth control. She's running for state senate and I've received a few mailers already.
George Lucas turns 70 today. Not every project he's associated with has worked out, but I don't think there's a filmmaker alive who has affected the movies, or moviegoers, as much.