Constantinople, yes. Surrealism, no

My aunt is hundred today. She visited Istambul on a cruise. it was during the time of the pasha. She remembers the black mosque. Or was it blue? But for whatever reason she can not recollect anything about Dali.

Born in the age of Google

My bright summer intern, student from a top college, did not know how to find a book in a library. Did not know what a library card or fiche was.

by chance

I wanted to call Free Xchange the previous post. I was trying to bring together the free (ideas) and Xchange (Xmerchant). Careless I typed Fair Xcahnge. Discovered later that there was a song with this title. By 2pac
A fair exchange, you know the game
We can do the damn thang, thang, thang

Buy low, sell high

To the judge installed by the party to represent the will of the people, he declared. “ I am a merchant of ideas”. The judge condemned him to twenty-five years hard labor. Seemd an unfortunate choice of words. Merchants exploit the working class. Speculators. Profiteers. The essence of capitalism.

Or did the judge have a problem with the selling of ideas. Selling for money? Making a profit on ideas? on ideas people would die for?

Later, for this stand he became a hero to many. But an altar does not certify the god and martyrdom does not verify a philosophy. And "merchant of ideas" I discovered, is a pretty common expression ...

the heat, the humidity or...

what is it when the guy with the fruit stand adds faster than the mit guy?

not fun, not fair

I was such a strong supporter last week. It didn't help, they did not select my "told you to buy a top of the line GPS" caption.

As a revenge here is a link to a serious critique.

bei mir ...

After six months of punching Hillary, Dowd cannot use satire or merely be funny at the expense of her favorite democrat. All she does is quote ...as her comrades are under attack. She looks like an union memeber who would not cross another local's strike line, but does not really feels for the strikers...

who laughs last

Didn't get it, at first. Then was amused. Then disheartened by the attacks on my favorite reading...New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest.

Lost New Jersey

Noticed only today. The new building blocks my riverview. The building is by now half rented.

not even the idiots...

No market for poetry. My internet search could find only one idiot's guide for poetry. There is also one for slam poetry ...whatever this is.

Flaw (not tragic)

There are days now when my mother doesn't know my name or who I am am. Yesterday she was in good form. She remembered some. Do you have friends? Do you have friends to talk to? she asked me. No. Was not going to assuage.

Timely, this funny Dowd column today quoting a marriage counselor priest....“Never marry a man who has no friends,” he starts. “This usually means that he will be incapable of the intimacy that marriage demands...

Old age

Patephone. Gramophone. Phonograph. So many words to forget. Babyboomer antiquities. After fifteen minutes, the music stops. If you want to hear more you need to change the side. I like this. You actually listen to the music, not just have it as background. I just bought myself a turntable with special software to transfer the music to digital files. So I would't have to get up every fifteen minutes.

Madonna and ARod

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