Wait a second.

I think Theo Kogan had a nose job. Sometime in the past 20 years.

I just watched an interview with the Lunachicks from 1988 or something, very old, after they recorded their first album. I couldn't help but notice that Theo's face was not the same face as her current face! WTF MON? When I was a barely-teen, Theo taught me that doing what everyone else does IS LAME. And that unfair societal expectations of people, particularly young women, are BULLSHIT. And that whatever the fuck you look like via nature IS OK.

This is of course all totally true, with or without her old nose, but I'm still a little surprised. Maybe it should have occurred to me that there could be some incongruity when this message is coming from someone who is an actual working model, but.

I don't actually care because, you know? Whatever. They still convey an excellent message to young females and everyone else, as long as you can stick around after all of the fart jokes.

But still - really?


There are better quality versions of this song but they don't have this awesome video.

It's an interesting talk, I guess. Does the authenticity of a message suffer a little damage when the individual does something antithetical to it? Is it antithetical? Women love to say that cosmetic surgery is worth it (and no longer shallow or false) if it makes them feel better about themselves every day. But what part feels improved? Being viewed as "better" than old-you because your nose is 10% more narrow? That really feels better? Paying thousands of dollars to look more attractive to people with idiotic sensibilities? If that's where your head is at, then it shouldn't be very hard to toss out a fishing line for an equally fucked up male companion, without the surgery. But I can't really fight girls who say a little heinous bone-sanding brought them some peace of mind, because it probably did, but only because EVERYTHING IS RETARDED.

The Lunachicks are still painful-offensive-amazing authentic. If you don't like it, you can, yanno. Suck it.

These usually work out well

New moon in scorpius! I have pared my life back almost extremely. Like a fingernail cut short enough to protest, but not pain.

Usually I do this because I'm pissed off, but this time it's because I'm all business. For the first time in my life, I spend more time working than playing. And I recall Stephen Fry quoting Noel Coward when he says that, sometimes, "Work is more fun than fun."


Check it out, jerk. It's the newest new moon that the world has ever had. You can't see it because it's black on black, but it's still there.

Favorite piece

at PAM.


Ghostly Josephine Jessup. Or, The White Rose by Chase.

I visited with my Gram, who pulled me over to a 16th century jewel-encrusted altar, the kind the very religious would have traveled with. There was a small engraving of The Last Supper in the middle of it, and she stabbed at it with her index finger.

Her: Whose head is rested on Jesus' shoulder?!
Me: (quiet)
Her: Mary Magdalene!!! See! (stab) They were married!
Me: HAVE YOU BEEN READING DAN BROWN

HI KITTLE

Don't you claw that thing! Don't you do it.

Good God.

I never paid attention to her. I've always thought of her as interchangeable with Garbo. No fairs? I know. I'm sorry, MD. I had no idea you were amazing.

Mind blower: Dietrich and Garbo, lovers. Don't ask me, I just read it on the internet. How could they tell who was who? By the accents? My god.

She aged amazingly well. This is her at 70 years old. Kidding me? She looks like Faye Dunaway with a hangover!

GIANT SIGH

"In the mid 1960s, the city of Westbrook, Maine had listed this house as one of the next houses to be condemned and demolished. My folks bought it for very little money, mostly the back-taxes owed to the city. By the time we moved in, our entire neighborhood were already terrified of the place, adults included. The place was seriously creepy. It had no insulation, broken pipes everywhere, thousands of bats residing in the3rd floor attic, scary bad wiring and it had weathered to a dull slate-gray color and hadn't seen a speck of paint in well over 40 years."

by flickr user SurrendrDorothy. There's more info.

I would have done anything to have had that experience as a child. I love moldering old houses. I am kind of annoyed by restoration, in fact, though I realize it's often necessary. Things (and people - other story) should show their age. It's what makes them interesting.

The museum I intern with is an 1895 Victorian dollhouse. It is a perfect showpiece, fully restored and staged in high Victorian frilliness. When the city bought it in 1970, it was a dirty disaster of a rooming house filled with drug addicts, hippies and fleas. There are tons of poster sized photos from before the renovation, and I can't get enough of them. I wish the museum would try to get in contact with people who lived there before they all die off. I need some first person accounts. The house is pretty magnificent, but I feel blah about all the glossy grandeur. It looks a little fake.

Victorian Houses tumblr.



My museum in the 30s or 40s. Peeling paint & screened upper porch.

19th Century Medical Crap

Force! The Master Rebuilder tonic.

"This preparation consists of a highly scientific combination of properties whose splendid reconstructive and restorative values are thoroughly recognized by all standard medical authorities." O RLY

Whatever it was is still in there, sliding thickly around. Grode. If you can make out the image, it's an Adonis type...forcing open the mouth of a struggling grizzly bear. Force!



Glass eye. It's like a hollow shell. I always imagined them to be solid glass balls, but I guess that would create a weight such that your fake eye could pop out any time! No bending over without closing your eyes first.

Dolly

70s Dolly kind of reminds me of my grandma. Something about being a little plump and decisively stuffed into something polyester.

You know what I mean.

Oh,

Another perfect analogy for life

Two interesting things: Fry and genealogy

Firstly I have to state that, as he touches on in the program, genealogy is kind of bullshit.

Due to limitations of time and records, we can only focus on certain of the innumerable ancestors we have. Also, we pick and choose which ones are the "best" and just focus on them, forgetting that we have all the DNA from the uninteresting and unknown ones too. Also, how far back does it cease to matter? How related ARE you to that 14th century King of England, and, if you're prepared to count that, then you have just gained a million distant cousins who are also "heirs". Great. More family to dislike and ignore.

My grandfather's surname has been in the states for ever. Someone did a tremendous amount of research on them and I came across most of the findings a couple of years ago. The oldest record is in the 1680s, I think. I keep meaning to check if anyone came on any boats of note (Mayflower power) but something always distracts me, and I have to question that even that recently in history, does it matter? Following one surname through endless branches disqualifies thousands of other relatives. I still occasionally dabble partly because it's a great way to sharpen researching skills and partly because it does put a human face on history: yours.



Have I mentioned that I love Stephen Fry? I adore him. I love every second of him. I listen to him speaking when I'm at the gym, instead of music.