Author Topic: In the New Yorker...  (Read 473594 times)

Online Jeff Wrangler

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2000 on: October 05, 2018, 01:11:44 pm »
As behind as always in my magazines, I nevertheless recommend the profile of Sarah Huckabee Sanders in the Sept. 24 issue (a woman once asked her, "How does it feel to be so good at your job--considering that you lie for a living?"), and also the article on Christian rock music, which I find an interesting look at a cultural phenomenon.

I don't follow music, so I'd only heard whispers/rumors about the Christianity underlying Bono and U2; therefore, it was interesting to me to read the following: "Few bands are more admired, in the world of Christian rock, than U2, precisely because Bono has spent four decades singing about his Christian faith, and his Christian doubts, without ever being boxed in."

U2 is a Christian rock band? Who knew?
"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide."--Charles Dickens.

Offline CellarDweller

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2001 on: October 05, 2018, 06:07:51 pm »
I never considered them a Christian rock band.  Interesting.


Tell him when l come up to him and ask to play the record, l'm gonna say: ''Voulez-vous jouer ce disque?''
'Voulez-vous, will you kiss my dick?'
Will you play my record? One-track mind!

Offline serious crayons

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2002 on: October 05, 2018, 09:32:30 pm »
I was pretty into U2 in the '90s and so was familiar with several of their albums and don't remember Bono mentioning religion, at least not in any direct or overt way. Their lyrics can be kind of vague, though, so I suppose if you're intensely Christian you could find some sort of religious subtext.

Speaking of SHS, I may have mentioned this before but I'm casual friends with the owner of the Red Hen Restaurant, the place that kicked out SHS. My friend became famous when SHS tweeted about it, identifying the restaurant so they could be attacked by crazy Trump-trolls. I mean, I can understand why SHS would be upset but she's really powerful with her however many Twitter followers. Stephanie owns a small restaurant, has about 50 Twitter followers and hasn't even tweeted for like two years. But I thought she held up really well under the pressure.



Offline CellarDweller

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2003 on: October 06, 2018, 11:31:30 am »
Granted, I'm not a U2 fan, so I can't vouch for all of their songs.  One song that has a religious reference is "Pride (In The Name of Love)".   The song is about both Martin Luther King Jr., but has the line "one man betrayed with a kiss" which is a reference to Jesus.



Tell him when l come up to him and ask to play the record, l'm gonna say: ''Voulez-vous jouer ce disque?''
'Voulez-vous, will you kiss my dick?'
Will you play my record? One-track mind!

Online Jeff Wrangler

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2004 on: October 17, 2018, 02:48:44 pm »
Over lunch today I finished the Oct. 8 article about the Swiss finishing school.

It seems to me it would be a lot more economical to buy a copy of Emily Post at a used book store.

Now it's on to the article about caring for patients with dementia. It looks harrowing, but I'll read it anyway.
"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide."--Charles Dickens.

Online Jeff Wrangler

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2005 on: October 17, 2018, 03:06:57 pm »
Granted, I'm not a U2 fan, so I can't vouch for all of their songs.  One song that has a religious reference is "Pride (In The Name of Love)".   The song is about both Martin Luther King Jr., but has the line "one man betrayed with a kiss" which is a reference to Jesus.

I can see where people get the idea. Take at look at the lyrics of "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For."


Quote
I have climbed highest mountain
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you

I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire

I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
Well yes I'm still running

You broke the bonds and you
Loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Of my shame
You know I believed it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for...

"I have spoke with the tongue of angels" is just shy of a direct quote of I Corinthians 13:1. (That's the famous chapter on love.)

"You broke the bonds and you / Loosed the chains / Carried the cross / Of my shame" is flat-out Christian imagery.

And then you've got "I believe in the kingdom come."

"I have kissed honey lips" reminds me of something from the Book of Proverbs (Old Testament), but I can't place it off-hand.
"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide."--Charles Dickens.

Offline Front-Ranger

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2006 on: October 23, 2018, 11:13:05 am »
Because of my recent trip, I'm way behind on reading my New Yorkers. That's why I'm so glad of this thread, so I know what the not-to-miss articles are.

Meanwhile, quixotically, I'm zooming ahead to the October 29 issue and this article on polychromy in ancient art, which references the giant statue of Athena that I saw at the Parthenon in Nashville, TN. Did you know that parthenon means, "place of the maidens"?

Link
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Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2007 on: October 28, 2018, 06:55:06 am »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Online Jeff Wrangler

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2008 on: October 28, 2018, 02:28:40 pm »
I hate modern type-setting. The word bridges divided over a line break as bri-dges.

(The article "The Great Awakening," the Oct. 15 issue. Yeah, that's how far behind I am.)
"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide."--Charles Dickens.

Offline serious crayons

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Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #2009 on: November 02, 2018, 09:35:55 pm »
This is hands down the best review I've seen of "A Star is Born." And it's only a Daily Shouts, not even in the print edition!

I know most of you except for Paul probably haven't seen it, and I'm not sure how often Paul reads this thread. But if you have any interest whatsoever this review is not only hilarious but also exactly nails what is good about the movie and what is less good about it. It's probably worth reading even if you don't plan on seeing it.

I'll post the significant part here, in case you're interested.

A few problems: there's a bunch of gobbledygook (at the top of the story at the link) about who's writing the review or saying what to whom. I don't get it and have no idea why they did this -- maybe it's an inside joke I'm not inside of? It starts out kind of slow with the cousin stuff. And after the ASIB part, it goes on to discuss other movies I haven't seen and am not interested in.

And if Blake Shelton had been like Bradley Cooper he would have deserved the Sexiest Man Alive designation instead of being the weird trolling joke that he was.

But otherwise the review is spot on!

I can't decide whether my favorite part is where it points out that Lady Gaga, although great and very charming in the role, never would have become a star looking like that and singing that kind of music ... or where it describes Bradley Cooper's eyes as "mouthwash blue."

Oh, also I edited a spoiler out of the excerpt, so if you want to avoid that you might not want to read the story at the link.

https://www.newyorker.com/humor/daily-shouts/if-you-ask-me-why-a-star-is-born-is-the-perfect-nonbinary-gender-reveal-and-all-things-bradley

In order to fully appreciate the wonderful new remake of “A Star Is Born,” I called upon my cousin Andrew, and not just because Andrew’s senior thesis at Oberlin was titled “Determining the Definitive Performance of Mama Rose in ‘Gypsy’ and Why This Debate Caused My Boyfriend, Derek, to Throw a Mai Tai in My Face.” Andrew informed me that “the 1954 version of ‘A Star Is Born’ remains a gay man’s classic, because Judy Garland singing ‘The Man That Got Away’ is the only possible antidote to any breakup, and it’s what Lindsey Graham hums while he’s trying to get Jeff Sessions fired. The 1976 ‘A Star Is Born’ could be called the straight woman’s empowerment manifesto, because Barbra Streisand not only stars in it, and co-wrote many of the hit songs, but also there’s a credit that reads ‘Ms. Streisand’s clothes from her closet,’ and, during the final gut-busting number, Barbra wears a white pantsuit, as if prophesying the rise of Hillary.”

“This latest version stars and was co-written and directed by Bradley Cooper,” Andrew continued, “which makes it that rarest of all creatures—a musical for straight guys. It’s interesting that, though Bradley is even more controlling than Barbra, and gives himself more adoring, moist-eyed closeups, he’s considered an auteur rather than a diva.” I’d noticed this, too, along with the fact that Bradley establishes himself as the definitive anti-Trump heartthrob; through woke-bro feminism, he may not only nab himself an Oscar but also get elected. Bradley is a new archetype: the gravel-voiced, substance-abusing, manly liberal dude, who selflessly boosts his female co-star’s career. He’s a combination of Beto O’Rourke, Bruce Springsteen, and Matthew McConaughey in one of those moody TV ads for luxury town cars. And, although the movie is the grandest, most compassionate, and most award-friendly display of mansplaining ever, I totally surrendered, because I knew that if I didn’t Bradley would nod stoically and, with a tip of his artfully weather-beaten cowboy hat, tell me that he understood.

Lady Gaga is terrific in the movie, even if the whole thing is very much Bradley’s guide for hurtin’ guys. Bradley is smart about letting us rediscover Gaga without her usual performance-art trunk of wigs, platform shoes, and mega-eyelashes. She comes across as a fresh-faced, radiant young woman who showcases her powerhouse pipes, as if Blake Shelton were about to spin around in his judge’s chair on “The Voice” and mentor her. Blake, who’s had relationships with the singers Miranda Lambert and Gwen Stefani, is actually a template for Bradley’s character, right down to his deep tan, eye crinkles, and benevolent I-love-the-ladies grin. It’s a little odd when Gaga’s character is later condemned as a sellout for singing pop hits in glittering spandex, because that is exactly the brand of dance tunes that made Gaga a breakout star in real life.

I love Lady Gaga and still use “Bad Romance” and “Paparazzi” as my ringtone and spin-class go-tos, but I doubt that she’d have become a superstar warbling Bradley’s country-rock, singer-songwriter sincerity. But none of this matters, because “A Star Is Born” is an ideal route for introducing Gaga as a mainstream movie star; as Andrew put it, “She’s Gaga Lite, for all the straight people who were suspicious when she was carried into the Grammys inside a huge plastic egg, like a deconstructed pair of conceptual German pantyhose.” Bradley also keeps the iconic moment toward the end of the story, when the female lead is introduced at a memorial with, in Judy’s case, “This is Mrs. Norman Maine,” or, in Barbra’s, “Ladies and gentlemen—Esther Hoffman Howard.” Barbra’s movie name would be perfect for a professor of gender studies at Columbia in 1982; Gaga’s movie name is Ally Maine, which sounds a bit like a Second World War naval destroyer.

After swooning over Bradley’s mouthwash-blue eyes—and overlooking the fact that, while Gaga is shown frontally nude, Bradley remains buttoned up—Andrew and I went to see Tom Hardy in “Venom” ...
[goes on from there about Venom]