Here’s video from our unexpected road trip last week. This is my first pass with iMovie, please forgive the cheesy transitions. If the whole thing strikes you as long and boring, well… the camera doesn’t lie.
Matt and Maggie’s demi-continental journey from Matt Raw on Vimeo.
For those of you wondering how we found ourselves in a rental car in Indiana last week: flying standby seemed like a good idea at the time.
Bunk: [on detail] A different look for our boy.
McNulty: Yeah, Perry Ellis, or something.
Bunk: Now, how would a just-rolled-out-of-bed-looking motherfucker like you know the designer?
McNulty: [pauses] Okay, I’m guessing.
Bunk: It’s a Joseph Abboud. He puts dark buttons instead of brass on his blazers. That’s the Abboud signature.
McNulty: You know what they call a guy who pays that much attention to his clothes, don’t you?
Bunk: A grown-up.
Perhaps it’s the sweater-tie combo I’m rocking today. More likely it’s that we just watched this episode last night and it cracked me up. Anyway, Bunk’s right.
In the spirit of keeping this blog from degenerating into a total pastefest… I’m going to try my hand at a little letterpress design with Maggie tomorrow. I have some ideas for some cards aimed at designers. A thank you card with lorem ipsum, or something super nerdy like that, I’m still kicking around a few ideas. After that, we’re off to the legendary (and final!) Bushwick birthday party where I will no doubt, as Bunk would say, have a taste.
Have a great weekend.
Could the Laundry Super Centers really be two years old?
…while Tony enjoys a New York slice
The review may be more inspired than the movie:
The screams and the images of smoke billowing through the canyons of Lower Manhattan may make you think of the attack, and you may curse the filmmakers for their vulgarity, insensitivity or lack of imagination. (The director, Matt Reeves, lives in Los Angeles, as does the writer, Drew Goddard, and the movie’s star producer, J. J. Abrams.) But the film is too dumb to offend anything except your intelligence, and the monster does cut a satisfying swath through the cast, so your only complaint may be, What took it so long?
The New Yorker juxtaposes Mike Bloomberg’s presidential flirtations with a little history about third parties in US presidential elections. But, as Remnick asks, is Bloomberg really just another bee, a spoiler candidate along the lines of Nader or Perot?
In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, especially, third-party candidacies usually grew organically out of some overarching moral vision. The Liberty and Free-Soil Parties stood against the evil enormity of chattel slavery; the Socialist Party of Eugene Debs and Norman Thomas embodied a suppressed yearning for social justice and greater economic equality. “When a third party’s demands become popular enough, they are appropriated by one or both of the major parties and the third party disappears,” Richard Hofstadter wrote, in “The Age of Reform.” “Third parties are like bees: once they have stung, they die.” Bloomberg is not without ideas about political and economic reform, but he professes no grand and specific national plan. Still less has he evinced any desire to sting and then die.
