Category Archives: What a Maroon

I LOVE this Woman

I have written many posts about my heros.  Political heroes like Adlai Stevenson and RFK.  People who have spoken up and made a difference.  But my current, live version of a hero is Senator Elizabeth Warren, Democrat of Massachusets.

 

 

Run Donald run.  And I don’t mean for office.  I mean head for the hills.  I imagine there is some real estate for sale somewhere they allow misogynous white has-beens.

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How’s THIS for an Idea?

You may not have heard the news that has the media all a flutter this morning.  Donald Trump yesterday banned all reporters from the Washington Post from admission to, and therefore coverage of, all of his events.

How about if all media — newspapers, TV, online — voluntarily stop covering all of his events.

Everyone.  Just. Stop. Mentioning. Him.

Because then there would be a meltdown that we could all enjoy.

And the country would survive.

You’re welcome.

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You See, I DO Appreciate Art and Shit! 💩

With an artist brother and a sister-in-law, you’d think I’d be more involved in the art world. Sadly, I’m not.

I used to be more of a gallery girl, loved nothing more than spending time in any one of the wonderful museums and galleries near where I lived or worked.  And the galleries I got to visit while living in or traveling to Europe could fill a book.  Still, going to a museum with either Fred or my sister-in-law, with someone who knows a lot about art, well, it is a wonderful treat.

But with my Crohn’s disease as active as it is these days, I don’t go very often.

For anybody without access to art, though, I recommend following my blogging buddy Mark, of Exile on Pain Street .  He works in NYC and frequents museums, galleries and auctions and frequently writes about it on his blog.  Mark does it with wit and without the snobbishness that usually accompanies folks who talk about art.

But nobody posts about art quite like I do.  Or about art theft, because that’s really what this post is all about.  Art theft pure and simple.

How-to-Steal-a-Million-5

Audrey Hepburn and Peter O’Toole in How to Steal A Million (Google Image)

The international art heist I’m talking about occurred in Spain, just outside Madrid.  I’m pretty sure it involved neither Audrey nor Peter.  Nor, probably, would the stolen object ever find its way into the Louvre.

Still, if you know anything about art, the beauty of an object is all in the eye of the beholder.  It may also be dependent on the species.  Or on the leash holder.

Torrelodones, a town near Madrid, paid 2,400 euros ($2,726; £1,885) for this sculpture:

Spanish Dog poop sculpture

Yes, it is a giant, inflatable pile of dog poo.  Photo from BBC (although they might deny it)

The article I read says:

The three-metre high inflatable bought as part of a campaign to encourage pet-lovers to pick up after their dogs went missing, El Pais newspaper reports. The bizarre inflatable disappeared after it had been packed away in its carry-case and the police are now on the trail of the 30 kilogramme dog poop, town officials say.

Speaking to the ABC newspaper, town councillor Angel Guirao said staff were shocked and perplexed by the theft, and a replacement excrement was already on order because “we know that the campaign has been a great success”.

I wish they’d asked me.  I could have provided plenty of models for this piece of art.

Why are you picking on me.png

Why are you picking on me.  Google, eat your heart out cause I took this one!

Don’t hesitate to ask me anything about art.  Or poop.

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This Really Gets My Goat

Do you ever want to pack it all in?  Shed these mortal coils?  Have an out of body experience?  Do you get so bored that you fantasize foreign travel, hanging out with a group of friends who won’t pester you with questions, eating a steady diet of fresh picked food, and drinking water from a mountain stream?

My inability to do that for a whole host of reasons, well, it really gets my goat.

But I think I can honestly say that when I consider having out of body experiences, when I think of packing it in, and when I contemplate shedding these mortal coils, I can’t even approach, neigh, fathom what Thomas Thwaite did.

Part of me sees the attraction.  After all, remember, I spent five years living in Switzerland.  And when you climb those mountains, your heart and soul expand.  You have what I dubbed Julie Andrews Moments where you want to sing with joy.  I can honestly say that I’d love to go back and spend some time there in those mountains.

But there are limits to how I’d like to go.  With whom I’d like to spend time.  And what I would like to wear when I get there.

For example, I do not want to imitate Thomas Thwaites.  He became a goat hung out on a mountainside.  With a herd of goats.  Eating grass.

There’s an article in the Washington Post about Thomas the Goat Man.  How he developed a prosthesis that enabled him to walk like a goat.  The challenges he faced.  The cold.  How he felt that human kind was progressing towards robotics, and he wanted to go a different way.  So he became a goat.

This video, read by a robo-caller, tells the rest of the story.  You can watch it and hear the story for yourself.  Or you can mute it, and watch a man in weird costume eat grass.  Your choice.

 

I can’t help wondering if the little goats used to laugh and call him names.  Did they let poor Thomas play in any goatherd games?

 

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Clap

According to the DailyKos, today Ted Cruz reached a new low in trying to get the GOP nomination.

Perhaps it is only fair, since Donald Trump recently brought up the fact that news* articles have stated that Ted’s seriously crazy dad, Rafael Cruz, was involved in the Kennedy assassination.

So Ted hit back, as Daily Kos says:

Candidate Ted Cruz, making his final appeal to Indiana voters (before his campaign officially goes down in flames), said of Donald Trump:

“… he’s proud to be a serial philanderer. He talks about his battles with venereal disease as his personal Vietnam.”

To his credit, Ted Cruz’s facts are more reliable than Trumps, as Trump did make the comment in a 1997 Ted Stern interview.  But still.

I keep thinking there will be a point in the quest for the GOP nomination where I won’t be left speechless by the crassness by the politicians involved.

 

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