For about a year now, I’ve been looking at New York Times real estate listings for their photography. I mean, I’m quite happy in my current apartment (much happier now that they finally turned the heat on in the midst of this freak snowstorm), but it’s interesting to see how other people live. Besides, who knows where I’ll eventually settle?
Anyway, just in time for Halloween, here’s a house that appears to have a screaming fireplace (courtesy of Sotheby’s):
NOTE: This version of the store has already been superceded by another. Use the link on the sidebar instead.
So Lulu, the service I use to print and otherwise sell the School Kids SG books, has changed my “storefront” over to a new format. Personally, I hate it–I have much less control over the page layout and how the items I want to sell are displayed. I threw together a temporary store of my own here on this site until I can figure out a longer-term solution. Please check it out if you have a minute–I put up previews of all three SKSG books to stroke your interest.
Here’s a picture of the damage in my neighborhood:
Seriously, Irene was horrible in some places (my parents wound up with a river running down their street in New Jersey), but the hysteria in my neck of the woods was greatly overstated. To be clear, my neck of the woods is well inland and on a hill. Being prepared is always a good thing, but I never believed for a second that we were going to lose power here. I was only concerned about the wind–that’s why I made sure to park well away from any trees–but even that wound up being kind of understated, at least relative to expectations. Not that I’m complaining.
On the other hand, my windows leaked all night, which made for a frustrating lack of sleep. That wasn’t really the hurricane’s fault, though: my windows have been leaking for months (though I’d hoped the latest repair job would have worked…so much for that).
The biggest problem in NYC now is the lack of mass transit–with the way the MTA dry-docked its trains, it could be days before everything gets back to normal. I spied this LIRR train, dark and silent, parked on an overpass above the BQE:
So, yeah. I don’t expect I’ll be going much of anywhere over the next few days.
Unlike the last hurricane I posted about, this one actually seems likely to pass through New York (though I don’t know if it’s going to do as much damage as everyone seems to think it will). I’m prepared, but it’s mostly a matter of staying inside at this point. I’ll probably sleep through the worst of it.
Still, I managed to get out a little bit earlier today, making one last trip to my local grocery store. Check out the bread aisle:
Good thing I bought my bread yesterday! At least there were plenty of bread crumbs if I’d happened to need them.
First things first—before you read this post, go read the article I’m talking about. I know it’s long, and that assigning homework of any sort is likely to lose me readers, but it’s very much worth your time. Thanks to Genya Shimkin, by the way, for calling it to my attention.
What we have here is the heartbreaking tale of Michael Gratze, a former gay activist who transformed into a Christian anti-gay crusader, baffling his loved ones and leaving the rest of us to wonder how we can square his old personality with his new one in a way that makes sense. Perhaps it’s not our right to do so—after all, Michael’s life, and the inner workings of his mind, are his business and his alone. It’s no one else’s place to judge. But seeing a person who once advocated for gay rights from a fairly influential pulpit (what young gay man from the 2000s didn’t look to XY Magazine as a resource?) turn around and start handing down judgments himself makes the temptation to examine, to try and understand, all but irresistible. Certainly, the article’s author, a former coworker of Michael’s, is trying to get to the heart of the matter.
For my part, I read this article and see a man governed by great, perhaps crippling need, though what exactly he needs I couldn’t tell you.
I think that Osama bin Laden post has been sitting at the top of this page quite long enough now, don’t you?
The other night, I had a bizarre and vaguely terrifying dream that may have been brought on by a sunburn on the top of my head (I don’t know if I actually have one–I can’t really see up there). Sunburns have been known to give me crazy dreams before, but anyway. In this dream, I was watching a cartoon show called Looney Tunes: Womb. Though it was never said, my brain understood that this show was a new creation that allowed the Looney Tunes animators to explore their wildest, rawest, possibly heretofore-banned ideas in a kind of sketchpad-type setting. I’d actually watch a show like that!
Seriously, the clouds yesterday looked like meringue. Have a look via this crappy cell phone photo (my phone camera was the best I had on me). Click for full size.
Real posts resume soon, I promise. I’ve been doing a ton of writing lately and I’ve been reluctant to stop for anything.
Here are some things I’ve been doing lately:
