Evaluate yourself

There comes a time in every Hornblower’s life when he (there are no female Hornblowers) must examine his life, and his reasons for Web logging. I do believe that my purpose with this Web log is to convince my self that I’m really cool, while at the same time (and this is crucial) making people think to themselves, “Hey, this Hornblower guy is actually really not cool. All he does is write this damn inconsequential Web log. Doesn’t he have a job, or friends — besides the made-up readers of his Web log, anyway? And he usually ends up killing those guys, anyway. And the way he talks to them — it’s like he doesn’t know what human interactions are supposed to be like. It’s pretty disturbing. If I met this man, I would flee for the highlands. I hope he finds help, or the Lord, or help in the Lord. We are all in danger.”

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More writing that you desire

I come bearing tidings of further strings of words composed by yours truly. The piece in question may be found here. Go on over and check up on it. It tells the tale of a journey to Bruar Falls in Brooklyn, where the musical groups Real Estate, Air Waves, the Beets and Grooms played a little show for those with ears to listen and eyes to see. It’s all there for the taking, reader. Nothing is asked of you but your time.

James Surowiecki wonders how many banks will become insolvent.

I’m thinking four… Okay, maybe not four. Maybe just three. Actually… Hmm. All of a sudden, I’m really not sure. Let’s start at the beginning. All right, Bank of America, definitely, right? They’re just a bunch of wild men over there. Okay, so that’s one. Citigroup — that bank’s gone way down in hole. Can’t even pay to name a subway station after its own ballpark. Two. How about TD Bank? There’s no way it can stay afloat giving away all those lollipops. And do you know what Regis and Kelly charge to be on those billboards? Stacks and stacks. So that’s three, right there. All right, how about Ted’s Bank, down on South Cherry Street in East Northport? Those arson charges aren’t helping his business any. I mean, I always stayed away from Ted, but some people didn’t see past his preacher/banker-next-door veneer. Pray for those people. What else? Deutsche Bank only has € 2,202 trillion in assets, so count them out. Sorry, Donny. What’s that? Nothing to do with Deutsche Bank? Hmm. And € 2.202 trillion is actually kind of a lot? All right, the count remains at four. Let’s turn our lens to JPMorgan Chase & Co. Hmm, 228.452 employees, $2,30 trillion in assets, 200+ years in business… looks like trouble to me. I’ll put it on the Danger List — not quite insolvent yet, but getting there. I guess that concludes my wondering about how many banks will become insolvent. I should probably go find out what insolvent means. I failed the shit out of AP Chemistry. Meantime, I’d advise everyone to invest their money in the Surowieckipedia. Get on board now and reap great rewards later, guaranteed. Guaranteed.

(Original post here.)

Clasp

It’s been only a couple of days, and already I feel the seething rage among my legions of followers. Calm yourselves, masses! This week has not been quite as productive as I (and you, undoubtedly) had hoped it would be, Web-log-wise, but know that I am currently working on drafts of three very promising posts, which posts will enlighten and engage, and make you chafe and cheer — all at once! If we are being honest here, though — and we always are, for that is my pledge — I don’t know if any of those drafts will be ready before Monday. I travel tomorrow to the fair city of Baltimore, and we shall see how the new atmosphere and new clime suits my Web logging capacity.

George Packer quotes Irving Kristol on populism.

“Populism? Gay.”
-Irving Kristol

(Actual post here)

Sasha Frere-Jones offers a chance to hear Catchdubs, Jubilee, and Ayres in action.

Ha, ha, ha, okay, this isn’t actually going to be an imaginary New Yorker blog post, I just wanted to call attention to the ridiculousness of that sentence’s appearance on the Web site of the New Yorker. Love him or hate him (I do both, passionately (?)), Sasha Frere-Jones does bring the New Yorker to places it has not been wont to visit in the past, e.g. Megasoid at the New Yorker Dance Party, profile of Flying Lotus (Steven Ellison).

Hilton Als just can’t stop watching Helen Mirren in “Prime Suspect”

I’m writing this on my iPhone. I’ve been in this room for 36 hours and I don’t see an exit. I don’t know how I got here or where I am, and I don’t know who put me in here. This room, it’s so white. So clean. I can’t breathe, it’s so white in here. Everything except for the television. That goddamn television. Forever playing the same goddamn thing. I’ve been watching Series 4 of Prime Suspect the whole 36 hours, but I don’t see a DVD player anywhere. Someone is out there controlling this, and it’s scaring the hell out of me.