WALLPAPERS(by munawar 9949935350)

The New York Times > Real Estate > Habitats | East 98th Street: A Specialist in Recycling, in a Recycled Apartment

Tuesday evening Enrique and I strolled home through San Francisco’s warehouse district, lulled on jazz and cocktails from one of the secret lairs left of an older city.

The so-called warehouse district is now the haunt of advertising firms and Swedish chair-designers.

Advertising firms tend to receive every dvd, cd, magazine, and design book that could possibly interest them. We joined a small knot of homeless, hipsters, and antiquarians sorting through the dumpsters, and came home with a stack of music and paperweights each. Spent an evening dancing to the latest punk.

‘Mongo’ trash aesthetic hits the metropole

<a href=”http://www.nytimes.com/2004/05/23/realestate/23HABI.html”

Tuesday evening Enrique and I strolled home through San Francisco’s warehouse district, lulled on jazz and cocktails from one of the secret lairs left of an older city.

The so-called warehouse district is now the haunt of advertising firms and Swedish chair-designers.

Advertising firms tend to receive every dvd, cd, magazine, and design book that could possibly interest them. We joined a small knot of homeless, hipsters, and antiquarians sorting through the dumpsters, and came home with a stack of music and paperweights each. Spent an evening dancing to the latest punk.

Walking around Berkeley, California, nothing is more clear than the diversity of dress.

But ironically, the Martian anthropologist notes to himself, diversity of dress tends to point to enclaves who won’t speak to each other.

The very people clamoring for diversity of -culture- speak several languages, but their single culture of dress represents one visual language which others will never speak to.

I walk down the tree-lined avenues, and a thousand visual languages are clamoring about their view of the human soul, and each meets speakers of other languages with scorn.

Xbox Takes Control

An IHT: Bend! Stretch! Hold it! article demonstrates that the Xbox has uses beyond distracting young boys and drilling soldiers in Geneva-compliant response: the xbox is your diet coach.

Beyond that, dieters can talk to each other through online communities. The coffee-houses of the future are for housewives in spandex. Begging the question: who wants such coffee?

Links to bibliographies

The “sense of place” literature that explains so much about cultural differences, now, alas, no longer studied by geographers:

http://www.wsu.edu:8080/~forrest/place.html

Syllabus for Michael Curry’s the History of Geographical Thought seminar at UCLA:

http://www.geog.ucla.edu/faculty/g298b.html

As recently as 1995, old salts sailing around the Bay could predict reliably what the tides were going to do. Schedules were published for the less experienced.

Now those sailing say to each other, Let’s see what it’s doing today.

No wonder the Navy believes what the White House fails to acknowledge, the likelihood that we are about to suffer an environmental catastrophe of unknown proportions.

Summer reading list:

Stanley Milgram, Small World (1988)

Anthony Ridley, Living in Cities (1971)

David Riesman, The Lonely Crowd (1950)

Reinhart Koselleck, Critique and Crisis: Evolutions in the pathogenesis of modern society (1959)

Neil Postman, Building a Bridge to the 18th Century (1999)

Poetry for sitting in the library:

Dunce in Bocardo

He stands in the Violet shadow

By the scribbled wall

And sticks his finger in every Tudor eye.

The pen is dry, the shadow

Is deeper, the fool

Quits the sleeping pricne.

Cranmer’s pears are sleepy, Pole

In Westminster nibbles Luther, heretics

Are sword-swallowers, eaters of fire.

In the apple-tree the blackbird

Whistles his belief, tailors

Catch snails, huntsmen chase

The owl in the holly-tree.

Now comes the violet night, the lewd

Citizens creep, then run, then snatch at glosses in blind corners

And kisses: Grape Street is dark.

From grope to grape by Bowlder’s Law,

Then back to grope by ius positivum.

Sweet Isis, you run softly

Through the future’s unimagin

able inscape

Id quod oculis meis vidi.

– Richard Layton

Many thanks to Danah Boyd and Chloe for exhortations to blog.