I thought this was old news. The link to the report from Deutsche Welle I'm adding here is dated March 10. But the story hasn't been widely seen. In short, a frozen product called "Obama Fingers" has appeared in German freezer cases: just pieces of fried chicken (with curry sauce, yikes). When asked if anyone was aware that a racial, uh, problem arises when you link an African American "brand," even a presidential one, to a fried-chicken product, the Fingers spokeswoman basically shrugged her shoulders and said, "Warum?" We … [Read more...]
Depression, Saltines, and I
I was fascinated with his "nicotine-stained" fingers -- that's what everyone called them then, even though the chemical is colorless -- as he plucked saltines one by one from the box and crumbled them into the soup. Campbell's Chicken Gumbo, Beef Noodle, or Cream of Anything, made no difference, in they went. "Thickening," he said, and of course Dad was right, because after he stirred it, the mingy housewife shortcut became something a man might want, a solid stew, a filling meal. Yet his stained fingers treated the crackers with a delicacy … [Read more...]
Mickey Rourke, Flannel Cakes and ‘Milk’
A Hollywood Pastiche Although the event may already seem fossil material, the 2009 Oscars were held Sunday in the bloated Kodak Theater at Hollywood and Highland. I recognized the steroided scene immediately, because it's right around the corner from the deco side-street hotel I stayed at in November, ensconced with that year's USC-Annenberg Getty arts journalism fellows. Our small hotel was caught between a tourist behemoth (theater, shopping plaza, lights, lights, lights) and a seedy, winding street … [Read more...]
Blossom and Rose
I've been away, at least in a writer way, for a few months. So I'd like to say hello again, and, as a welcoming offering, link to two of my recent pieces, both posted on the website Obit Mag. The first, which was spurred by artsjournal fellow blogger Tyler Green, took advantage of my fury about the threatened dissolution of the Rose Art Museum at Brandeis University, my alma mater. The second is a small bouquet tossed at that irresistible bohemian spirit of intelligent romance, Blossom Dearie, who died on Saturday. More to come... For an … [Read more...]
Spilt (Harvey) Milk
While waiting for embargoed reviews of Milk, you may wish to see my just-posted Obit Mag essay about Harvey Milk and the potential rebirth of present-day gay activism. It's great to have any kind of Obama-esque inspiration, but I am still convinced that solid changes come from real and metaphorical streets. … [Read more...]
Kim’s Video Pizza War
Almost any restaurant is better than, say, Alan Greenspan at analyzing the economy. After the 1987 crash, eateries in New York and elsewhere began a process that I, as Village Voice restaurant critic, named "bistroization," by which I meant a dumbing down of the astonishing menu invention of the previous decade to a more affordable steak frites yawn that would keep customers coming into the same expensive space. Prices did begin to crawl upward as business improved, but the kitchen creativity that made the '80s the most thrilling culinary … [Read more...]
Must Arts, Rights Stay on Election’s Back Shelf ?
I ask this leading question because, though we know the answer, we persist in champing at the usual bit. Almost no one running for office will discuss the arts or something as specific as gay rights when business and war put national, even international, livelihood at risk. Yet the health and some of the wealth of civil society depends upon the health of the arts, upon the survival of its small as well as large institutions, and upon the strength of its journalist criticism, now under mindless attack. Our souls too depend upon the arts, but … [Read more...]
Trout, or Fish Fashion
My wonderful neighbor Anthony, whose fisherman expertise is matched by his passionate, sensible defense of the aquatic ecosystem, came to my door at 5 p.m. carrying a paper plate. Upon it sat a beautiful spotted gray and rose fish, beheaded, slit, gutted, and garnished with large commas of roe the color of ripe pumpkin. "This was swimming a half-hour ago," he said, smiling shyly. "Are you sure?" I asked, referring to the gift, not his veracity. What a sweet guy. This writer is genetically obtuse at identifying a fish by its … [Read more...]
Yard Sale Tale
I'll never know why didn't he snap up the vintage photo of Public School 238's eighth-grade graduating class. He had a really good reason to do so -- but maybe an even better one to leave it be. Who can doubt that flea markets are museums? Yard and garage sales are those museums' feeder galleries, and all of them provide a surprise immersion into the lives that neighbors past and present have led. Those of us who are hypnotized by these object lessons in popular culture also understand that the rich discards displayed for sale … [Read more...]
Unabomber Aesthetics
Robert Kusmirowski, Unacabine, 2008 Art forms that appeal to modern leftist intellectuals tend to focus on sordidness, defeat and despair, or else they take an orgiastic tone, throwing off rational control as if there were no hope of accomplishing anything through rational calculation and all that was left was to immerse oneself in the sensations of the moment. -- Theodore Kaczynski, Industrial Society and Its Future ("The Unabomber Manifesto") A perfectly fine artist few in the U.S. have heard of named Robert Kusmirowski has a perfectly fine … [Read more...]