Russian chopper shot down

Welcome to the world of Donald Trump

(A screen grab of an ad running on FB:)

Watch yourself

Haha

(Hat tip: Homo Desiribus)

Fragment, fragment! Here, from This Is Heaven, Ch 27, "We need a room," (John & Taylor together)

(Early on in the chapter, before anything happened:) 

The room is in the same wing as Juliette’s (and Barbette’s I guess). The view is the same as well; we could see Africa if the world were flat. We bolt the door. We stare at the room: king-sized bed, closet, balcony window with A/C underneath, mini-desk along the wall with a flat-screen TV. Above the bed—-some anarchist decorator must have done this—-hangs a framed poster of the White Star Line about the maiden voyage of the Titanic. 

(It has happened now:) 

“The earthquake is over,” I say and withdraw. We’re lying side by side now, reeking of salty cum, unable to lift a limb, gasping, but otherwise silent. Everybody is silent. The children have stopped squeaking, the couples have made up, the bedheads are at rest. You could hear a pin drop. No pin drops. 

“You think they were listening?” he asks.

“So to hear,” I say. He laughs.

We’ve discussed this before. Up here, in our heads, us males get back to normal very quickly. 

“One more time?” Taylor asks.

“I’d take this as a compliment,” I say.

“Meaning?”

“Let’s cherish the memory.”

“This was the best sex in my life,” Taylor says.

“I thought it was your first time?”

“So, I’m right by definition.”

“You sound like Alex,” I says.

“Alex,” he muses. “Come to think of it. Alex. Ten inches.” 

He rises, steps into drawers, shorts, T-shirt, sneakers, horn-rimmed spectacles, collects his Marlboroughs, and says: “I think I’ll go now. Spread the good news.” He points at something above my head, above the headrest. There it still hangs, the Titanic, its frame severely off-kilter. “See you later,” Taylor adds.

Italian for beginners --- an Italian review of the Green Eyes

Cool folks, cool, we have an Italian review of the GREEN EYES in:

The downside of international fame is of course that---(terrible sentence)---that you don't understand what people are saying until you invoke Google translate---and even then. But the Italian sounds so much better.

Questa è la trama del romanzo di Michael Ampersant, ma se pensate che sia sufficiente per capire il valore, e la complessità del testo vi sbagliate. C’è molto altro in Green Eyes: c’è il sesso – esplicito e sconcio, ma no per questo volgare-, ci sono i riferimenti culturali, le citazioni, c’è ingiustizia che ancora oggi chi è gay subisce e c’è una scrittura, che nel suo stile sintetico che a me piace tanto, è in grado di suscitare nel lettore un miscuglio di emozioni e sensazioni pazzesche. 

Sono tanti, o forse è meglio dire diversi, i personaggi che John incontro lungo la sua ricerca di una vita diversa da quella attuale, ma Maurice, un turista inglese, è quello che più di tutto acquista importanza ai fini della storia. Infatti viene violentato da un poliziotto, in una scena vivida che sconcerta e fa incazzare.

Doesn't it?

French for beginners

(Hat tip: les diagonales du temps)

Monday matinée

Henri Rousseau: The dream

The width of a circle --- Venice (1)

You've made it, you're wealthy now, and preferably American, because Americans are more likely to do it than other mortals. You've already donated a bundle to many causes (causes, let's face it, is now a standard entry on any celebrity's resumé), but soup kitchens and AIDS and blood diamonds get you only so far, and you're among the 53% that love art (as opposed to the 47%), you totally love it, and you totally admire artists, who need all the help they can get since Puccini told us about Mimi and van Gogh, so a foundation it is, a new foundation in support of the ARTS, because there are simply not enough of these foundations. Like. 

Now, your foundation needs to be visible since this is not about you, but about the ARTS. And you always totally loved Venice. Venice, la serenissima, the only city in the world that is in itself a Gesamtkunstwerk, the only city worth your efforts except your hometown that's already stuffed, stuffed, stuffed with a Lisa Hooksey museum (that's your name), and a Lisa Hooksey wing of the local hospital, and a Lisa Hooksey conference room at the local college, and so on, and so it's Venice. 

Venice, Grande Canale, home to the grandest art foundations

Goood evening!

If the shoe fits