An Inclusive Litany
Nazareth says he "imagines Elvis as a book that you open up, and you find so many people in the book." Or, according to the syllabus, that Elvis "contained a series of doors that opened inward into America, breaking down racial barriers at a time when the struggle for racial equality was taking place. In doing so, the doors opened out into the whole wide world." The course will establish connections between Elvis's style and the styles of Mahalia Jackson, Little Richard, Mario Lanza, Bing Crosby and Nat "King" Cole. Nazareth wants to explore the "multicultural Elvis."
Koons's current work was inspired by Ilona Staller's pornographica—both her photographic work and her performances in which she sings and dances naked. "Ilona uses her body in the way another artist uses a paintbrush or a chisel," Koons told me. His manner is puppyish, urgent: his eyes have an earnest glow. He speaks with the soft monotone of a theological seminarian. "She uses her genitalia. And she communicates a very precise language with her genitalia."
Just what do Ilona's genitalia say?
Marina, the interpreter, a fine-boned Venetian with an expression at once alert and baffled, gave a nervous giggle.
"The vocabulary tells you that you can find a lot of beauty in life. You must embrace life. And there's no reason not to have confidence. Life can be really beautiful!"
The best money I have spent in my life was not that used to make me either happier or more comfortable, but the taxes I have paid to the various governments under which I have lived. In general, governments have spent their share of my money more wisely and with better results than I have spent my own funds, and one aspect of my life about which I am most ashamed is that I spent most of a decade living in three states that had no state income tax—Texas, Florida, and Alaska—and the deficiencies that the first two suffered because of that lack were evident daily. I like states like New York, Massachusetts, and California, which do tax and spend their income wisely.
Your examination application slip will be marked either PASSED or FAILED and returned to you by mail. Numerical scores are not given to prevent possible discriminatory employment practices based on achievement levels.
It's short of soap, so there are lice in hospitals. It's short of pantyhose, so women's legs go bare. It's short snowsuits, so babies stay home in winter.... The problem isn't communism; nobody even talked about communism this week. The problem is shortages.
... The application of Deborah Anne Ziegler for change of name(s) having been filed in court, and it appearing from said application that Deborah Anne Ziegler has filed an application proposing that her name(s) be changed to Euphrasia Lavette Alzena Guri Scientia Ventura Ikiru Alvera Ganbatte Gelasia Curvilinearjsky ...
Lee added, "skipping school for the opening is okay because the film presents the American history that students are not getting in school. If they go see the film and write a report about what they've seen, the teachers can't hold that against them."
Attallah Shabazz, Malcolm X's daughter, responded, "I do not request nor do I think my father would want you to play hooky... Stay in school and learn. Stay at your job and feed your family."
[Ed.: Mr. Lee later admitted he converted to Islam while filming the movie in order to get film footage in Mecca, the sacred city open only to Muslims.]
In Highland Park, New Jersey, a rabbi was fined for having a photocopying machine, a filing cabinet, a typewriter, and miscellaneous business documents in his home, which violated a local ban on home offices.
Jane was starting to cry. I kept flipping slides of grotesque young Saigon women, talking about the breasts and eye operations performed to turn them into round-eyed, round-bodied Westernized women... Suddenly I understood why she was weeping: I was talking about the image of superficial sexiness she once promoted and was now trying to shake. I looked at her in a new way. Maybe I could love someone like this.
Late one night in 1985 Ebenezer Obey was playing to a packed house at S.O.B.s, Manhattan's third world watering hole. It was his first appearance since Island's promotional push for Sunny Ade', when suddenly there were people who knew that juju wasn't that multi-colored candy ground into floors at movie theaters, or some stuttering take on religion. The place was sizzling. The obligatory parade of Nigerian chiefs climbed to the stage in massive white robes to dash dollar bills onto Obey's sweat-soaked brow in an honored salute of respect. Club-goers bounced to the Chief Commander's miraculous, polyrhythmic juju—white and black, Wall-Street bedecked or downtown-garbed, it mattered little. It wasn't every day a band of 17 members locked into a transcendental groove graced such a tiny stage.
But my glance kept wandering back over my shoulder to a middle-aged gentleman with a broad, still-boyish face and spreading paunch who was cutting up the dance floor. Obey himself was staring too, flabbergasted. "Ladies and gentlemen," he beamed between songs, "I am so honored by our most esteemed guest." As well he would be. The Kennedys held something of the same spell over English-speaking Africa as they did in the U.S.—And there was big Ted getting down to the Inter-Reformers Band. "We welcome you." But Ted wouldn't look up and hardly acknowledged—he'd checked his dubious celebrity at the door. The Senator was there to boogie.