“Add sugar and sell it. This can be translated across into culture, can it not? When life gives you folk literature, gothic fairy tales and myth, what does Disney do? Add sugar and sell it. When the body of world art and tradition gives you complexity, ambiguity and difficulty – add sugar. When news and events present obstacles, problems and conflict – add sugar. For America sugar is an unalloyed good in and of itself and as a metaphor, a symbol. It might seem that Americans have the taste buds and desires of children. We know this from their popular foodstuffs: melted cheese, fried chicken, milk-shakes, cookies, candy, fizzy sugared drinks, pappy hamburgers smothered in sugared sauce – even their so-called high-end coffee is flavoured with sweet vanilla, cinnamon or hazelnut. Adults are helped to stay childish though sport, games, gadgets, monster-trucks and escapist movies, cowboys, superheroes, comic book villains and thrilling science fiction. Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin from Family Guy, are lovable forgivable funny and charming inasmuch as they are children. It’s all about how many cup-holders their cars have, nothing to do with suspension or engine, it’s all about feeding their stomachs and their minds with things that are sweet and easily assimilated: non-complex carbohydrates and non-complex concepts. It is no accident that in Family Guy, which if you haven’t seen you really must, the most memorable and popular character is Stewie, a sinister and malevolent babe in arms who is funny because he is entirely adult and sophisticated – and to prove it he has an English accent. He is sceptical about everything where his family is credulous about everything, melancholy where they are pointlessly breezy, direct and secretive where they are euphemistic and lacking in mystery.”—Stephen Fry (via azspot)
Panera Bread Co. is asking customers at a new restaurant to pay what they want.
The national bakery and restaurant chain launched a new nonprofit store here this week that has the same menu as its other 1,400 locations. But the prices are a little different — there aren’t any. Customers are told to donate what they want for a meal, whether it’s the full suggested price, a penny or $100.
trent and i are studying in the living room, and alla sudden someone yells “can i get some help over here?” we grab cell phones, shoes, run outside, walk around, look for clues. we didn’t see or hear anything else, so we came back inside. by now i’m pretty genuinely concerned because it was an absolutely desperate scream.
cole was watching TV in his room and that part was just really loud. he did say our immediate sense of civic responsibility gave him a warm fuzzy feeling, though.
i just rode my bike drunk for the first time. it’s pretty neat to sing songs to pedestrians to try and keep yourself going. this bender started around easter.
it’s spring. it’s nearly summer. i could tell you guys about how i’m waivering, and it’s weird. i could say how things are so different, but that would essentially be saying things are still the same. maybe i’m lost, but when the hell aren’t i? i could say i never know what to think. i could say i feel really deeply. i could say my feet smell, i drank gin out of a plastic bottle, and i’m exhausted.
and you all could say, jeanine, what else is new? and that would be fine. you would be right.
in 10 more minutes, you can’t buy beer in champaign because it’s too late. i just hurried trent out the door with his last $10 to his name to go buy us toilet paper and beer. less toilet paper than beer, of course.