Jones's typical erudition was marred, slightly, by his attempt to re-create Hawthorne's own tortured failure to represent the Southern vernacular in print. The screening of early, unreleased (and for years repressed by the Hawthorne and Disney estates) cartoon versions of the 19th century American master's little known cycle of black folk tales was fascinating, and their use as unauthorized tools for recruiting Jehovah's Witnesses up through the 1970s is necessary information for any serious scholar. Donations to Dr. Jones's legal fund may be made through the link at this website. |
The cadre of kids suffering under the cellular tether and "safe" under the aegis of "helicopter moms" has now begun (reluctantly and with an unprecedented sense of entitlement) to enter the workforce. That means serious financial for the Millennials is lurking in the near future like a pedophile in the chatroom of a Bratz fanfic blog. Ynch addresses the problem of kids who blew the roof off their credit limits in high school to "be down wid the savings and investment thang." Her solution? Appeal to their residual infantilism by bundling financial services with friendly cartoon characters from the Millennials' idyllic past. But is Wall Street really ready for SpongeBob 410(k)Pants? |
This reporter would not have believed it had it not grabbed him and squeezed out all doubt. But as convincing as the paper was, it positively blew away anyone under the age of 25, though there were many murmuring "What's INXS? Some kind of hippie band or something?" One wonders, though, along with Mare L. Ynch, who attended out of a sense of professional duty, if all this isn't the result of over-protection from well-meaning Baby Boomer parents. Hutch-Antz had a compelling thesis, but the first person testimonials of the often still bruised (!) youngsters was truly gripping. |
"Never have so many been killed by so few," said one reviewer of Priya Singh's films -- and that was just of the opening credits. With dance numbers that call for 1000 Uzis (and other goodies looted from Afghanistan) and a swinging soundtrack by Ashe Bhosle (also stolen), Singh's films have quite the cult following. The interactive element in this presentation was a bit disturbing though and reminded this reviewer a bit too much of the most dangerous game of Laser Tag ever. |
Ever notice how formalists are generally really, really into formalism? Blume suggests why: line length is not linked to breath so much as breathlessness. Recent brain scans, he notes through PowerPoint slides of MRI headshots, show that scansion excites the same region in formalists as naughty pictures do for normal, well-adjusted fans of free-verse. Think of it as dancing, Blume says, or the substitute for "parking" evolved in a pre-car and very proper world of stuffy, drawing room affairs. |
Taking their cues from the recent show trial by the (then) conservative-controlled Kansas State School Board trying to justify their pro Intelligent Design science standards, the Goold brothers say such things are indications of the, um, "change over time" that has taken place in fundamentalist circles. Once pilloried by the once more media-savvy Left, the Christian Right has not only largely taken over the public pulpit, it has, in a postmodern twist, begun to control the content of almost all media by completely defining its terms. Argument is reduced to slogan and slogan is infinitely replicated as talking point. Having half the paper delivered by a ventriloquist-voiced T-Rex was the perfect touch. |
Lootz-Boot is perhaps the first serious scholar to tackle the relationship between the G8, the World Bank, the IMF, the Chicago School of Business, and the corporate media outlets that "cover" these multinational organizations. Ever notice how globalization is a fait accompli according to every broadcast news show, Time, Newsweek, and all the major papers? In the work of Lootz-Boot's much cited fictional avatar, the people think "What I tell them to think." We all know, though, that Murdoch's Xanadu lies in the editorial offices of the Wall Street Journal. Given how much he's willing to spend, no doubt his Moby Dick swims there as well. |
Mr. Guppy appeared, hat in hand, to ask, most humbly, for the attention of the audience; all the while phlegmatic patients' red and green gangrenous sinuses flashed onscreen behind. One finds it difficult to decry the Victorian proprieties of Guppy's delivery, but the visuals were disturbingly contrapuntal to the staid, almost New Critical text of the paper itself. |
Nathaniel
Hawthorne's Long Lost Uncle Remus Tales: Young B'rerman Rabbit
and the He-art of Black Puritanism
Smith
Barney & Barney and Friends: the Challenge of Marketing
Financial Services to the Millennial Generation
Doin'
the Chokey-Pokey: The Strangling Game as X-treme Sport: Autoerotic
Asphyxiation Cums to the Millennial Generation
Burn
Bollywood Burn, I Smell a Rayat Going Down: Peasant Hunting
as Sport in the Snuff Films of Priya Singh
Autoerotic
Alliteration: Tolkien, Poe, and Seamus Heaney's Beowulf as Purveyors
of and Venues for Highbrow Formalistic Porn
The
Evolution Will Not Be Televised: Theocracy as Press Conference
in America's Heartland
Murdoch
and the Bounty: how Conservative Media Fuels Multinational Laissez-Faire
Capitalist Hegemony, or Hearst II, the Wrath of Kane
Shut
Your Blowhole, Mr. Chucklesmith, Darling: Images of Otolaryngology
in Dickens' Bleak House and Beyond