Archive: February, 2006
In that way, he anticipated Fox News.
If the Stones seemed a little sad at the Super Bowl - Keith Richards padding around the stage like he was searching for his Metamucil, Ronnie Wood's guitar buried until in mid-"Start Me Up" solo - try this:
Giant free concert Saturday night in Rio - crackingly filmed, recorded, played. And free on AOL Music.
I just tuned in for these evergreens from the set list: "Jumpin Jack Flash," "Sympathy For The Devil," "Start Me Up," "Brown Sugar," "You Can't Always Get What You Want," and the encore, "Satisfaction." Not sure how long they're leaving it online.
And now this.
As the U of Chicago's Daniel Drezner put it:
Flemming Rose, cultural editor of the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten, explains why he commissioned the dozen cartoons of the prophet Muhammad - an act that has ignited worldwide Muslim protests.
The most controversial image, reprinted by The Inquirer, shows the prophet with a bomb in his turban. Rose writes in the Washington Post:
Angry voices claim the cartoon is saying that the prophet is a terrorist or that every Muslim is a terrorist. I read it differently: Some individuals have taken the religion of Islam hostage by committing terrorist acts in the name of the prophet. They are the ones who have given the religion a bad name. The cartoon also plays into the fairy tale about Aladdin and the orange that fell into his turban and made his fortune. This suggests that the bomb comes from the outside world and is not an inherent characteristic of the prophet.
Just before school started our first year in Germany we took a house in Denmark with another family. It was last minute thing - a cottage picked from a drawing in a Berlin travel agency, and when we finally came upon this half-timbered, thatched-roofed beauty that looked out over a wildlife preserve, it was hard to believe this was our fortune.
The people seemed reserved in a down-Maine way, but everyone we met spoke perfect English. Except in this one bakery. She was an older woman, and I had to gesture what I wanted -- some coffee and a bag filled a mix of those delicate pastries that were ribboned with icing, dusted with almonds or laced with marzipan.
I bit into one on the way home, promptly started drooling like a cartoon dog, then had one of those cosmic revelations: "Ah, this is why they call them 'Danish.' "
You send in a picture. The crowd confers. It's all very hush-hush, no names attached.
What sick puppy mashed up Oprah's grilling of fabulist author James Frey with her mondo couch session with Tom Cruise?
(From the Best Week Ever, hat tip Gawker)
Wish I'd heard of this way to get twice the alertness: