Two things on my mind this evening, which is basically toast from my new and improved job responsibilities at the fishtank. While it might mean more income, it also means I’m tired and grumpy at the end of the night. Not that I didn’t find time to practice frisbee with le Big Jim, who’s in town from Paris, as well as another friend from New Jersey.
First off, concerning a place in the world I worry about and follow closely; Haiti. For those not keeping score at home, there is still a coup d’ etat in power, which took power with the help of unknown American security forces who kidnapped or smuggled (depending on who you ask) president Aristide into exile. Now the illegitimate government is charging the former prime minister with some big crimes. No shock there; take power by force, accuse your enemies of murder. Case closed. Maybe the only ones I like in all this are the Brazilian peacekeepers.
Second, more personal and promotional. Mr. Known Universe himself – Jamie, has published his novel. Not only that, as a frequent flyer between Brooklyn and Amsterdam, word on the street is he’s coming back to our fair city this summer. Jamie is a good human, a good writer, not to mention a dam good photograph maker. Online ordering is, of course, available.
But I did have public radio, and you can bet I made use of it. During the day, Pacifica’s wonderfully crazy
Laura Bush strikes me as a psychopath. Or a sociopath. One of those words for people who are secretly crazy and probably cut themselves in private. I’m not making fun of her for that, I actually hope she gets help for that problem. But listening to her speak (by mistake on television) in Israel, you can hear that she has no clue what is happenning in the world and she’s just on the borderline of snapping and killing everyone. – I’m scared.
Still tonight was a classic, as Toronto’s Finest Chef-in-exile is officially back and warming a new house. And it’s one of them classic 1700’s Amsterdam shop-houses, with stain glass windows facing the street. The man is a culinary genious and a social scholar to boot. I especially enjoyed his home-made-mango ice cream. As we soaked in the typical Amsterdam party ingredients and got into this big conversation about the lack of female-comedic actresses since the eighties.
Obviously I saw the annoyingly over-talked about film of the year. Proudly, thanks to my friends round the world with whom I share files, I downloaded that shit. Plus I don’t want the producers to get one dime from me.