AdamSmith

Backpage Sues Chicago Sheriff Over Pressure Campaign To Stop Sex Ads http://talkingpointsmemo.com/news/backpage-sues-cook-county-sheriff http://www.wsj.com/articles/backpage-files-suit-against-cook-county-sheriff-over-credit-card-service-1437496670

Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee – digested read ‘Oh Atticus. If you won’t defend a Negro, at least help an old lady whose publishers are cashing in’ John Crace The Guardian It was an elegantly written first sentence worthy of the most earnest unpublished first novel. Jean Louise sternly repressed a tendency to boisterousness as the train clacked through Alabama. She did, though, allow herself a knowing smile when it came to a halt in the miserable gerrymander of Maycomb that, for many years, she had called home. “How is Atticus?” she asked. “His rheumatoid arthritis is playing up,” said Hank. “Shame your brother died a few years back.” “Isn’t it just?” “Will you marry me?” “No. But I might have an affair with you.” Jean Louise settled back into a sophisticated New York silence, breathing in the fragrance of the heavy southern air. How she hated everything about this small town with its inbred population and inbred values. As the automobile pulled into the driveway, she saw Calpurnia, her father’s faithful cook, standing by the door. “I love Negroes,” Jean Louise declared loudly. “Yessum, Missy Scout. Can I take your bags?” With an all too familiar sense of foreboding, she inwardly steeled herself in preparation for seeing her father. “How are you Atticus?” “I’d be a lot better without the niggers.” Jean Louise couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What had happened to the nobility of the equal rights campaigner? “But Daddy, how can you say that,” she sobbed. “Please can we just sit down and talk for hours and hours about how you defended the Negro Tom Robinson 20 years ago.” “What’s that?” “You know. The famous rape case.” “Remind me, what was the nigger’s name again?” “Tommy Robinson.” “Sorry. It’s not ringing any bells.” Only the singing of a few startled finches broke the heavily pregnant silence. The next morning a desperate Negro came running to the door. “Oh help us please, Mr Atticus. Our son has run over and killed a white man.” “Sure. Happy to help.” The bright southern sun came out and lit up the room. Jean Louise’s heart filled with joy. Atticus was a good man after all! “Thing is, Scout,” Atticus said later. “It’s far better for me to come along and take the case than leave it to some civil rights lawyer. Them lawyers are causin’ a whole heap of trouble round here.” “Oh Daddy. This is all going so badly. If you won’t defend a Negro properly, then at least come to the aid of an 89-year-old lady who has had a stroke and is almost totally deaf and blind. Poor Miss Harper was determined not to let anyone read another word she’d written and then just two years after her sister died, her lawyer and publishers have decided to cash in by printing a piss-poor, first draft manuscript. They’re even claiming to have found a couple of other unpublished novels down the back of her sofa.” Atticus yawned. His rheumatoid arthritis was tiring him out. “It’s not one for me, Scout. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a Ku Klux Klan meeting to go to.” A storm broke and the intense southern rain battered the tin roofs of the Negroes’ dwellings. Jean Louise had to get away. She drove to Mobile and then drove back again, her mind awhirl with the sort of not very interesting observations that so often pass through the minds of characters in unpublished fiction. With just 30 pages left, she summoned the courage for a final confrontation with Atticus. “You’re a racialist.” “Sure I am. But it’s easy for you in New York. You don’t have to live with the niggers on a daily basis. They’re all a bit primitive and they go mad if you’re too nice to them. We have to adapt them slowly. It’s what Cardinal Newman would have wanted.” Jean Louise pondered this deep in her heart. Perhaps Atticus did have a point after all. “OK,” she announced. “I’ll stay here after all. But I definitely won’t marry Hank.” “That sounds like a very good idea, Scout. And while you’re here, why don’t you see if you can turn that paragraph about the rape case I don’t remember into a novel?” Digested read, digested: To Kill a Golden Goose http://www.theguardian.com/books/2015/jul/19/go-set-a-watchman-harper-lee-digested-read

Eek. All best wishes to keep getting better. Thiago will help!

I do believe you've got the march on me for once.

Want to know how to curse like a proper American? Have a look at these maps A UK-based linguist created maps based on geotagged data from Twitter that show the usage rates of several popular curse words across the US http://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2015/jul/17/map-curse-words-united-states-shit-asshole-fuck-fuckboy

A real ad...

Read my own writing? What a bore! Still looking around for why he wasn't announcing the 13 launch.

Indeed one Chuck Hollingshead, King's eventual successor, announced 13, but I can't see why anywhere. Time for a seance!

Btw, which stated info? Jack King announced all the Apollo launches, he said somewhere. Let me see into this! Once the ship cleared the tower, the role of Public Affairs Officer for the rest of the mission switched over to his counterpart in Houston Mission Control.

"Firing command coming in now -- we are on the automatic sequence!"

Glenn Greenwald on twitter: "I'm a fan of Gawker & several of its journalists, but that article is reprehensible beyond belief: it's deranged to publish that." https://mobile.twitter.com/ggreenwald/status/621873669472710656

Even Gawker senior writer disowns site's 'repugnant, shameful' attempt at clickbait http://twitchy.com/2015/07/16/even-gawker-senior-writer-disowns-sites-repugnant-shameful-attempt-at-clickbait/

The back story in a nutshell: http://str8upgayporn.com/meet-derek-truitt-the-batshit-insane-conspiracy-theorist-gawker-used-to-out-david-geithner/ Gawker's outing story: http://gawker.com/conde-nasts-cfo-tried-to-pay-2-500-for-a-night-with-a-1718364339

Oh boy. Warming of oceans due to climate change is unstoppable, say US scientists Seas will continue to warm for centuries even if manmade greenhouse gas emissions were frozen at today's levels, say US government scientists http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/jul/16/warming-of-oceans-due-to-climate-change-is-unstoppable-say-us-scientists

By contrast to the dramatic public affairs officer's announcing above, here the laconic Flight Directors' Loop:

That is a great review. Its last paragraph resounds: Admitted that these old issues have some very ornery complications, Lee and her then-editors made a canny decision to roll the story back two decades and put the rape trial (covered in two paragraphs of Watchman) center stage. Portraying that drama through the innocent eyes of Scout created a classic for children of all ages -- all the really hard questions have been smoothed out of it. Mockingbird's Atticus is a fantasy figure; we wish we had people like him, but we dont. Jean Louise's crisis in Watchman effectively tears down the icon Mockingbird erected -- and this ordeal is also inflicted on the book's vast readership. To regain her psychological health and become a whole person, Jean Louise must find a way to accept and even love her father as a deeply flawed human being. However hard that is for her, it will be a lot harder for the rest of us. That phrase about Mockingbird -- "a classic for children of all ages" -- echoes that cut by Flannery that I love & quoted in a post above.

Go Set a Watchman review: more complex than To Kill a Mockingbird, but less compelling Scout has lost her swagger and Atticus fans will be shocked by a satisfying novel that nonetheless vindicates the direction taken by Harper Lee's classic debut ...For many readers, large stretches of Watchman will be like discovering an alternative version of The Catcher in the Rye in which JD Salinger casts the story of the adolescent Holden Caulfield as the dream of a paedophile Republican senator... http://www.theguardian.com/books/2015/jul/12/go-set-a-watchman-review-harper-lee-to-kill-a-mockingbird

Just the tip?

Opening line of Finnegans Wake: "riverrun, past Eve and Adams, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs." riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of Madam's. -- Richard Armour, Punctured Poems

MsGuy, you must keep up with these things. HB on that carefree afternoon at Obersalzberg...

And the opening of O'Connor's other novel, The Violent Bear It Away: Francis Marion Tarwater's uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to finish digging his grave and a Negro named Buford Munson, who had come to get a jug filled, had to finish it and drag the body from the breakfast table where it was still sitting and bury it in a decent and Christian way, with the sign of its Savior at the head of the grave and enough dirt on top to keep the dogs from digging it up. (The jug, we shortly learn, is because the late uncle had been a moonshiner.)

Just as a parlor trick, here is the opening of Go Set a Watchman: Since Atlanta, she had looked out the dining-car window with a delight almost physical. Over her breakfast coffee, she watched the last of Georgia’s hills recede and the red earth appear, and with it tin-roofed houses set in the middle of swept yards, and in the yards the inevitable verbena grew, surrounded by whitewashed tires. She grinned when she saw her first TV antenna atop an unpainted Negro house; as they multiplied, her joy rose. Jean Louise Finch always made this journey by air, but she decided to go by train from New York to Maycomb Junction on her fifth annual trip home. For one thing, she had the life scared out of her the last time she was on a plane: the pilot elected to fly through a tornado. For another thing, flying home meant her father rising at three in the morning, driving a hundred miles to meet her in Mobile, and doing a full day’s work afterwards: he was seventy-two now and this was no longer fair. And then here, coincidentally likewise set on a train, is the opening of Wise Blood, Flannery O'Connor's first novel: Hazel Motes sat at a forward angle on the green plush train seat, looking one minute at the window as if he might want to jump out of it, and the next down the aisle at the other end of the car. The train was racing through tree tops that fell away at intervals and showed the sun standing, very red, on the farthest edge of the woods. Nearer, the plowed fields curved and faded and the few hogs nosing in the furrows looked like large spotted stones. Mrs. Wally Bee Hitchcock, who was facing Motes in the section, said that she thought the early evening like this was the prettiest time of day and she asked him if he didn't think so too. She was a fat woman with pink collars and cuffs and pear-shaped legs that slanted off the train seat and didn't reach the floor. Elsewhere in the same book O'Connor writes: Two doors flew open and he found himself moving down a long red foyer and then up a darker tunnel and then up a higher, still darker tunnel. In a few minutes he was up in a high part of the maw, feeling around, like Jonah, for a seat. And that's just someone entering a movie theater. There are writers, and then there are writers.

Pants? Queen Victoria's underwear sold for £12,000 at auction A pair of royal cotton knickers with a 45in (114cm) waist is sold for a record price to a private English collector, along with set of replica crown jewels http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/jul/11/pants-queen-victorias-underwear-sold-for-12000-at-auction#img-1 http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/jul/11/pants-queen-victorias-underwear-sold-for-12000-at-auction