I like Anna Wintour. She describes herself as "decisive." She appears so to be. Therefore, she possesses an abundance of a quality I lack practically altogether.
I like Grace. I like the luckless Italian fotografer. I like the little muscle-guy who knows how to print out fotos. I like the models, the designers, the slaves, the vassals.
For, they're all wholeheartedly in pursuit of an ideal, il bello.
I never knew before, for I've never had a copy of Vogue in hand.
They're painters, artists. They take young flesh and brilliant costumes and distinctive settings, and create foto-paintings.
God bless their hearts, one and all.
Besides, The September Issue was so much funnier, and so much more suspenseful than advertised, I was delighted to have bought the ticket.
Meanwhile, down the hall, was Lord, Save Us from Your Followers. Always glad to see Jon Stewart, that handsome dog. And Senator Franken, that--er--entertaining dog. And Bono's hair.
And so very many Uncle Toms, wherever did the presenter find them?
And the self-confessing, self-forgiving presenter. How pat he has it down. A little lipstick on the pig, no need for a change of heart. Or self-examination. Or a sense of justice.
A most disheartening movie, so glad I didn't buy the ticket.--Giac.
I like Grace. I like the luckless Italian fotografer. I like the little muscle-guy who knows how to print out fotos. I like the models, the designers, the slaves, the vassals.
For, they're all wholeheartedly in pursuit of an ideal, il bello.
I never knew before, for I've never had a copy of Vogue in hand.
They're painters, artists. They take young flesh and brilliant costumes and distinctive settings, and create foto-paintings.
God bless their hearts, one and all.
Besides, The September Issue was so much funnier, and so much more suspenseful than advertised, I was delighted to have bought the ticket.
Meanwhile, down the hall, was Lord, Save Us from Your Followers. Always glad to see Jon Stewart, that handsome dog. And Senator Franken, that--er--entertaining dog. And Bono's hair.
And so very many Uncle Toms, wherever did the presenter find them?
And the self-confessing, self-forgiving presenter. How pat he has it down. A little lipstick on the pig, no need for a change of heart. Or self-examination. Or a sense of justice.
A most disheartening movie, so glad I didn't buy the ticket.--Giac.
