The Church of Crab Risotto
As I write this, it is 2:23 pm, the world is exploding, I am completely stuck on all my writing projects, my sunflowers are sagging, and it is too hot to do anything outside happily. But my house is beautifully cool—I sprang for a second AC when I got an extra gig last month—and my refrigerator is brimming with good ideas: produce from the local greenmarkets, red and white wine, seafood from Chelsea Market, butter from an Upstate friend, supplies from the old-school Italian grocery down the street. So I am cooking a crab risotto, the decline of western civilization be damned. Continue Reading →
The GIF That Can Kill
I woke with a voice screaming in my ear and this is what it said:
Oy, oy, oy! Stop treating the RNC convention–the Trump candidacy in general–like it’s a reality show you can rubberneck with no consequences. This is real, and Trump has progressed this far because we’ve treated him like a never-gonna-happen joke rather than the 21st-century Hitler he truly is. He is a danger, he feeds on our smugness, and he tromps over our nitpicking while we pat ourselves on the back. We need to steamroll this malignant narcissist, not make adorable GIFs at his expense. Continue Reading →
Who You Gonna Call?
The world is absolutely on fire right now. We feel dumb talking about our petty problems, and, frankly, we should. Yet in our private, off-line worlds we will seek entertainment as relief because we are human and this is how humans behave. To that end, I recommend seeing the new “Ghostbusters” this weekend. My reason is actually political, as I do not think this CGI-addled, badly paced film is worthy of its very fine cast, though the irresistible Kate McKinnon is like a hilarious silent movie unto herself, and Leslie Jones wisecracks with the best of them. (I blame its failings on writer/director Paul Feig, the kind of affable white dude who keeps “failing up” despite his string of unfunny comedies.) My reason is this is one of the first all-female comedies ever bankrolled by a major studio, and big grosses on an opening weekend will mean that other all-female projects will be bankrolled in the future. More than almost ever, paying to see this Hollywood movie will be an act of activism—one you can commit while eating fatty, sugary foods and sitting on your ass in a climate-controlled environment. So go. I ain’t afraid of no ghost but I am terrified of cockocracies.