As if I could not be any more excited for Brave, the gaelic song at the end of the latest trailer has put it over the edge. ”Tha Mo Ghaol Air Aird A’ Chuain”, sung by Julie Fowlis.
Me too, hot damn.
mhmmm
Well, I know that I’d watch it…
Please, PLEASE someone make this movie. You can have all my monies.
“And it was still hot.”
Possibly the most perfect line in all of children’s literature?
I’m deeply saddened by the passing of Maurice Sendak. It feels like such a loss. His books were such an integral part of my childhood, of developing my love of reading. As an adult, I was honored to be his publicist at Harper.
I keep thinking of this interview he gave on “Fresh Air” last year, with his thoughts on dying: “I have nothing now but praise for my life. I’m not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can’t stop them. They leave me and I love them more. … What I dread is the isolation. … There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready.”
Thank you for all the adventures, Mr. Sendak. We love you more.
I know LICENSE TO ILL isn’t going to get a lot of love today, it’ll be overshadowed by masterworks like PAUL’S BOUTIQUE and HOT SAUCE COMMITTEE. And that cool; that’s great. That’s as it should be. Probably the thing about the Beastie Boys that have most enjoyed has been watching them age, as artists and as men, with real grace. And I guess that’s the loss that I’m feeling right now—the end of the opportunity to continue to be witness to that evolution. That feels like a vacuum. That feels like theft.
So, while we are sifting through our collections trying to fill that void, I’m going to hit LICENSE TO ILL. Yes, it’s a record made by a bunch of asshole kids. At a certain point in my life—when *I* was an asshole teenager, not coincidentally—I could not get enough of it. It’s smells that we most often talk about being tied to memory, but the opening beats of She’s Crafty take me back so specifically to a time and place… the house we rented on Tejas. My job at Video Update. The Robs, the Jeffs. The Andys. All the stupid, stupid shit Amity and I got into that I am, quite frankly, surprised we lived through.
It was a long way from the best time in my life—it was dizzyingly uncomfortable at best—but I still hold those memories dear. Dearer for the distance, but still. I can recall without reliving and find moments, sensations to love.
I listen to LICENSE TO ILL and I remember just what it felt like to get f**ked up and scream like a madwoman at the stars in the Texas big sky. It felt glorious.
For that, and for all the rest, I am grateful. Thank you, MCA.
License to Ill never gets old.
Maureen Johnson: WHY DO WE PHOTOSHOP PEOPLE? →
Many of you may have seen the articles today about the awesome fourteen year-old who took a petition to Seventeen Magazine requesting that they do one non Photoshopped spread a month. Seventeen, to their credit, heard her out. They ultimately turned her down.
Now, Seventeen Magazine can do…
Attention Caitlin DiMotta…
Knowing the science makes it all the more enchanting.
old books = loved books
