I should be writing about commie childrens’ literature for the sample chapter of my book (discourse/economic understanding) but it will come when it’s ready to come.
Rave, huge. My family. All with the fullest, most productive, busy lives possible, still there and generous in every way. Gosh they’ve had my back. No rave could do justice.
Rave decades long friend who scolded me to organize book chapters to send to literary agents. It’s getting there.
Rave silly kitten Oliver. He’s taken to his cat condo, cat pod, cat slouch. (Trying as best can to keep him from climbing bookcases.) What an adorable slob. Doppelganger of no name slob cat from film Breakfast at Tiffany’s except with a respectable name.
Rave the pooches and their people in my building. They wag and grin.
Rave Alamo Draft House Theatre for popcorn smell long into the night and even early morning. (I live just upstairs.) Rave Merit coffee place. ( I live just across the street.). I now usually do Mexican Coca Cola mornings but sometimes only a cappuccino works.
Rave Urban Betty on 38th for fixing my at-home COVID chop. (That’s a Lyft ride, but worth it.) Needs update soon.
Rant/Rave dated October 15, 2021. Demographer Steven Pedigo’s New York Times article this morning…in Texas the assaults on voting rights, vigilante bounty on womens’ reproductive rights (effing medieval), antivaxxers and antimaskers assaulting schoolchildren and super scary people with completely unregulated firearms wandering around who knows where. (“altar of populist ranvanchism” pretty cool phrase.) Oh and gerrymandering.
Rant/Rave dated October 8, 2021. Frank Bruni (whose writing I much admire) (winner words today, October 14, 2021…”the raging romper room of Trump”) in the New York Times…very disturbing things in the heart of Texas, yes there are.
Rant/Rave dated August 24, 2021. Mimi Schwartz in the New York Times…how far are Texans from open rebellion against Abbott? Hard to say. You think that one’s gone as low as could be then he lowers the bar. But there is some standing up here. Parents, teachers, responsible businesses, doctors, nurses. And, it seems, a few more masks out there.
As contrast. Rave the sane Governor Pritzker of my home state Illinois (whose family basically built splendid Millennium Park…summer lawn concerts, winter ice skating, Lurie Gardens with tree lined stream, pedestrian bridges to Art Institute and Lake Michigan. Of course the happy-making Bean). (And across Michigan Avenue, Symphony Hall.) New York Times does not need to write about him because he does his job without the crazy posturing. Hoping to get back there in a few weeks but could need wait until spring. Millions of people in 2021 have far worse problems.
Rave my late night folks. In some way they’ll end up into my book because in our 2021 discursive universe they are some of the people (along with journalists, activists, obviously, and more) who say what it is. The satirists from ancient Greece to Jonathan Swift to Moliere to Oscar Wilde to Lenny Bruce…George Carlin…Richard Pryor…Amber Ruffin, and (“miss me with that bullshit”) (and tear-jerk interview with his South African grandmother) Trevor Noah. Of course The John Oliver. As a former academic I’d bet on probably more than a few journal articles, conference papers, and what not all about satire as actually serious commentary that influences how a society makes sense of things.
Silly rave. Heard on NPR this morning that Texas Monthly actually has a barbeque editor. NPR was laughing at the weirdness too. Gosh. Brisket is awfully good but.
Hopeful for people rave. KUT’s story today, October 19, 2021, on the Texas Workforce Commission’s hold music. During early pandemic local musicians (who couldn’t play for audiences) composed it (because they couldn’t work their jobs) spent long waiting time on, hold. And a generous donor funded them. And TWC adopted it. Out of pandemic, at least a little something good comes.
Rave. The public piano channel on YouTube. Those players are really good. Calms kitten Oliver when I stream. And just is happy. Now I know what to do, when I pass, with the piano I bought with the inheritance from my grandmother (probably with a little help from my parents too). Maybe. Surely there would be details to work out, but how good it would be for that lovely piano to be used. As long as it’s been retuned
Rant. Still have not cleaned the floor. Care, don’t care.
On to commie children’s literature.
Dayna Finet 