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Saturday, March 21, 2009

Fifty Bucks Says...

Posted by David Schmader on Sat, Mar 21, 2009 at 2:32 PM

....Obama's Leno gaffe adds up to one very special guest at the commencement ceremony of this year's Special Olympics.

That is all.

The Limits of Love

Posted by Charles Mudede on Sat, Mar 21, 2009 at 12:51 PM

A commentor, Yekaterina, on an article posted on West Seattle Herald (which is to Amanda Knox what Fox News is to the GOP) makes a profound point about the family's refusal to see Amanda in any other way but innocent.


1cd5/1237663337-picture_9.png

I have been following the case from the very beginning with a special interest of somebody who attended a course of Italian in Perugia a few decades ago and who today has children of similar ages as the victim and the accused. My children have studied abroad and they travel the world. It is every parent's worst nightmare to find him/herself in the situation of Meredith's parents but also in the situation of the parents of the accused in this case.

Yet, I think that almost all of the actions of Knox's parents are not only out of place, but simply outrageous. Parents should be there for their children to provide real support in every situation, not to encourage them in their denial.

It is obvious that Knox knows more than she is ready to admit and that she was involved in the crime in some way. Her parents, stepparents, uncles, aunts and friends are unfortunately showing her that they can only love her if she is innocent and in this way they have been actively encouraging her to perpetuate her lies....

That is the heart of the matter: Can Amanda's family only love her if she's innocent? Meaning, the force that's behind their resistance to see her as possibly guilty is actually the fear of not being able to love a guilty Amanda. To love a murderer is a terrible situation to be in. Hannah Arendt once wrote that the reason why one should not commit murder is because one is always in the existential situation of living with oneself—oneself not actually being one but dialogically two or more. So, if you murder someone, you are essentially moving in with a murderer. Similarly, to love a murderer is to live with one, and how can you feel safe or happy in a situation like that? But, on the other hand, under any circumstance, how can you hate your daughter, your child, the person you gave birth to and raised? How can you stop loving the you in her? There is no easy solution to the problem.

The Vanishing

Posted by Charles Mudede on Sat, Mar 21, 2009 at 11:18 AM

From WSJ:

Citigroup Inc. and two other lenders have filed court papers to foreclose on General Growth Properties Inc.'s Oakwood Center mall in New Orleans, which has a $95 million mortgage that came due Monday and wasn't paid.

Today The Stranger Suggests

Posted by The Stranger on Sat, Mar 21, 2009 at 11:00 AM

Theater

Tour the Viaduct

This weekend, WSDOT will close the Alaskan Way Viaduct for inspections and, as a bonus, will conduct public tours of Seattle's most embattled piece of architecture. The viaduct is Seattle's concrete corset, holding its commercial flab of glass and steel from tumbling into Puget Sound. The 45-minute tours will show off the structure's seams: sinking sections, post-Nisqually-earthquake braces, and plastic crack monitors that measure how quickly it's falling apart. See it now, while it's still standing. (Tours 9:30 am–noon, enter at the Columbia Street on-ramp. Reservations required: E-mail viaduct@wsdot.wa.gov.)

BRENDAN KILEY

Reading Today

Posted by Paul Constant on Sat, Mar 21, 2009 at 10:16 AM

890f/1237568503-1554470447_b.jpgThree events today.

At Seattle Mystery Bookshop, Caitlin Kittredge reads from Second Skin, which is about someone hunting someone who's hunting werewolves.

Funny you should mention werewolves, because at the Library at 4 pm today, a bunch of kids will get together and determine, "once and for all," which one is better: Harry Potter or Twilight. They will not fight with their fists, but instead using the age-old method of debate. More information here.

And at Elliott Bay Book Company, Robert Bringhurst & Jan Zwicky read. Zwicky wrote The Tree of Meaning: Language, Mind and Ecology. Bringhurst wrote Everywhere Being is Dancing: Twenty Pieces of Thinking. I can't speak to Zwicky, but Bringhurt's Dancing is nothing less than splendid. If you like really beautifully written essays on arts and culture, this is the thing for you. This is the reading of the night.

The full readings calendar, including the next week or so, is here.

The Morning News

Posted by Unpaid Intern on Sat, Mar 21, 2009 at 8:48 AM

Posted by News Intern Aaron Pickus

North Korea: Two American journalists detained.

Iran and America: Ayatollah Ali Khamenei says there has been no change in US policy.

Bonuses: DC lawmakers and President Obama appear to be backtracking on extreme tax.

Bonus news: AIG bonuses were $50 million more than originally reported.

Abandoned dogs: Brits leave dogs in Spain, flee country.

Sarah Palin is shocked: President Obama, the Special Olympics and Sarah Palin.

Irrelevant news: Billy Corgan is the only person left in the Smashing Pumpkins.

Don't want all yer money: South Carolina governor officially rejects $700 million in bailout dollars.

Hate crime: Man charged for assault and for allegedly calling a fellow Metro passenger a "gay epithet."

Legalization: Former SPD chief Norm Stamper writes that all drugs should be legal and regulated by the government.

Midnight Bus Poetry

Posted by Paul Constant on Sat, Mar 21, 2009 at 12:00 AM

Tonight, we have a very special Bus Poem. Our poet is Brian McGuigan, who is a big muckety-muck at the Hugo House and co-founder and curator of Cheap Wine and Poetry, the big fun drunk poetry reading at the House. He also blogs every once in a while over here.

Here is his bus poem:


war
after Bukowski

the bus driver sighs stopped at the light
as rain falls on the windshield;
he doesn’t have a chance—
rides from Queen Anne
through Capitol Hill
and out to the CD, an improbable rain,
and an improbable timetable,
we pass so many without a chance.
and I realize that there isn’t much chance
for any of
us. peace won’t save us and war won’t save us,
a good war or a bad
war.
we take a lot and use it until it is
gone.
bombs drop, tax seasons begin, there are sick days and
days we just call in;
we try to cheat the machine.
war, you kill any man
and then another.
the bus driver has Denny Way
between Seattle Center and the 5.
I sit next to a veteran who puts his feet up
on a seat.
there is a small tear rolling from one of the bus driver’s
eyes. he is ashamed to wipe it
away.
the people click on cell phones or listen to iPods or look out their
windows.
the tear rolls
rolls over the cheekbone
then down the face,
then the
floor.
MLK, yells the bus driver,
turning on MLK
Way.
he speaks, at last. what a dubious thing.
I get off at MLK. I need to smoke and have something
to eat. I don’t care about the bus
anymore. it is a
death toll scrolling across the bottom
of a TV screen. I don’t see it
anymore.
there will be more buses.

I decide to smoke
and eat after.

I walk into the rain and out of the rain
and take off my wet shoes
and dry off.

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