My bathtub is covered in a thin layer of playa dust.
happy!
More on the sex slaves article.
Jack Shafer is one grumpy critic, but Stacy says he often calls people on poor research and in the end turns out to be right. Upon reading Landesman article I referenced below, Shafer wrote “Doubting Landesman”. The Magazine editor, of course, responded immediately, and Shafer rebutted.
Surely politics, and the American emotional need to uphold a moral standards image, plays into the debate. (We wouldn’t have a booming sex slave industry because there isn’t enough clientele for one in our family-values-oriented nation, right?) I’m certain that some of Shafer’s points are valid; his friend the Coastal Expert sure is convincing. It still chills me to the bone to think that this is going on, regardless of its scale.
Potage des haricots blancs, coutesy of Stu.
Oh, it is nice to know foody people. Witness:
Sautée some onions, carrots and leeks in butter. Add a hambone* and the already soaked white beans (3 cups dried) to that, and 7 cups of chicken stock. Cook forever. Take out the bone, and purée. Add 1 cup cream. Consistency of soup should be that of heavy cream. Put some freshly minced parsley in at the end.
* or smoked pork hoc, or sautée up some pancetta together with the initial veggies.
Excellent, excellent. The only thing I added was a bunch of pepper; and could’ve probably used a bit more salt, but watch out: the ham might provide quite enough salt on its own. What a marvelous, simple cold-weather soup. Crusty bread with it, mmm.
How many carrots/leaks/onions? Hell if I know. Eyeballed it, putting in one huge chopped carrot, half a thick stalk of leek and half an onion, the latter without cutting it. I wasn’t sure about the amount of the onion family in the soup, and rather dislike soups that are too onion-y. So ended up taking the regular onion out at the end. In retrospect, could’ve probably put in a bit more leek; I think I like the smoky-mild taste of it, sautéed. The large half-Spanish-onion was just right. The cream I put in was light, and heavy might have just overdone it, for once. The final dish is gorgeous and velvety, with its Great Northern bean and real chicken broth base.
(Yeah, I made real chicken broth, as Whole Foods had chicken bones and I’m huddling at home as much as I can in this cold. Hopefully, this time I’ll actually freeze some of the broth to use later. Simple! Chicken, potato, onion, carrot, parsnip, Vegeta, parsley. Simmer. Don’t forget to take off the foam after the meat simmers a while, or it won’t be clear.)
Orkut oracle
Today’s fortune:
Happy events will take place shortly in your home.
Well, indeed! Getting rid of more material possessions (something I enjoy doing once in a while, a bit of purge), for my love’s moving here in nine days. How strange and exciting is this?!
I’ve been working more consistently. I like serenity deep inside.
A little too close to home.
Coming out of the supermarket yesterday, the sunset drew a sudden, laughing “whoa!” out of my chest. Cold, not a hint of the star’s heat getting through; but clouded over just enough to make the western sky a fireplace in nature’s home. Whispy orange dissolved into the gray-blue around it, and all the colors were steel-shimmery, this is what our human technology wants so painfully to achieve.
I clutched at my shopping bags with the full-spectrum bulbs and chocolate in them, my little spells against the winter. Had we never emigrated from my beautiful city, I would likely still be reasonably well educated and lived the best life I could in the changing seasons halfway across the world.
Or, regardless of my social standing or level of education, I could also have been lured by the prospect of a better life, trafficked, raped and beaten into a submissive stupor, and imported into the United States as a prostitute-slave.
Do I know any of these girls?…
so sad.
Cybertext review
I’m not a very astute self-promoter, am I? A few weeks ago, the Resource Center for Cyberculture Studies published my review of Espen Aarseth‘s Cybertext. If you have any comments, I’d be interested.
How the mighty have fallen!
I’ve been tempted by, and have succumbed to, Orkut. The Google-affiliated site seems to be combining elements of Friendster’s unassuming stance with the somewhat risqué elements of Nerve Personals. I’m not sure what I think about that, especially since Orkut seems to be promoting business contacting; but I’m interested enough to see how this works out, so I’ve joined.
I’m happy to invite people, too; in fact, am actively seeking volunteers. I don’t like disclosing people’s e-mail addresses unless they’re specifically okay with it, so if you’re reading it and would like to participate, leave a comment and I’ll ping you through Orkut! One big happy Internet.
Oh, and if you’re already part of it, let me know also. I’d like to find more people.
eavesdropping
The local Indian grocer calls me “madam.” He pronounces it the way the French do, ma dame. He sells tiny zip-locked plastic baggies of cardamom and wildly purple tiny aubergines. Shriveled-looking pomegranates, obviously intended for cooking, inhabit the middle-left produce shelf near the refrigerator full of Indian TV dinners and exotic juices. Against the wall are ghee, coconut milk and spices of every shade; across the room are incense, henna and other non-edibles. He’ll sell you chopped fish frozen in blocks of ice, cheap; product of Indonesia.
Today, three young men jovially burst in and chattered animatedly in what must’ve been Hindi, glancing around the store with casual interest. Suddenly, one of them turned to the seller and asked: “How much for a whole lamb?,” almost immediately adding: “I can see you’re excited, I know – so how much?”
As my debit card transaction was going through, I learned that a 23-24 pound lamb is likely to cost about $85.
It has just been pointed out to me:
Today is 1/23/4.
facing west.
My windows face mostly west. On clear, cold days, the setting sun sets everything around me on fire with brilliant amber; within three minutes, cools off with a pinkish Martian red. Slate dusk descends just as suddenly.
