Rose was clever, spiky, dark, pretty, delicate, tough, inventive, connected and young.

I miss her.



"It's very important to remember that no matter how far I might diverge or find freedom in this format, it only is free insofar as it has reference to the strictness of the original form. And that's what gives it its strength. In other words, there is no freedom except in reference to something."




Shane Black: "Well, there was a kind of movie I always, a kind of book I always loved growing up. I loved detective stories. I could do those for the rest of my life probably."

-- Talking to Steve Weintraub at Collider about The Nice Guys.


Throw a kiss and say goodbye

Walter Becker: Donald had a house that sat on top of a sand dune with a small room with a piano. From the window, you could see the Pacific in between the other houses. "Crimson Tide" didn't mean anything to us except the exaggerated grandiosity that's bestowed on winners. "Deacon Blues" was the equivalent for the loser in our song.

Donald Fagen: When Walter came over, we started on the music, then started filling in more lyrics to fit the story. At that time, there had been a lineman with the Los Angeles Rams and the San Diego Chargers, Deacon Jones. We weren't serious football fans, but Deacon Jones's name was in the news a lot in the 1960s and early '70s, and we liked how it sounded. It also had two syllables, which was convenient, like "Crimson." The name had nothing to do with Wake Forest's Demon Deacons or any other team with a losing record. The only Deacon I was familiar with in football at the time was Deacon Jones.


Donald Fagen: The song's fade-out at the end was intentional. We used it to make the end feel like a dream fading off into the night.

Walter Becker: "Deacon Blues" was special for me. It's the only time I remember mixing a record all day and, when the mix was done, feeling like I wanted to hear it over and over again. It was the comprehensive sound of the thing: the song itself, its character, the way the instruments sounded and the way Tom Scott's tight horn arrangement fit in.

Donald Fagen: One thing we did right on "Deacon Blues" and all of our records: We never tried to accommodate the mass market. We worked for ourselves and still do.

-- Donald Fagen and Walter Becker talking to Marc Myers of The Wall Street Journal, 10-9-2015


Falling man

"The work gets slower, that's for sure. This latest book took me nearly four years to write and it's not even 300 pages. It's not a burden, it's just day-to-day. But at some point I realised I'd been sitting there for four years. Why isn't it a bigger book?"



Remember blogging? In the early days of the World Wide Web an Internet user's knowing gaze fell on Wonkette (Ana Marie Cox) and Bookslut (Jessa Crispin). Cox left Wonkette in 2006, after which it wasn't fun; now Crispin has shuttered Bookslut, leaving us with less fun again. Boris Kachka at NYMag.com asked Crispin why she's leaving and her answer shows why we will miss her:
BK: You’re not a fan of the industry.

JC: Part of the reason why I disengaged from it is I just don’t find American literature interesting. I find MFA culture terrible. Everyone is super-cheerful because they’re trying to sell you something, and I find it really repulsive. There seems to be less and less underground. And what it’s replaced by is this very professional, shiny, happy plastic version of literature.
Earlier at NYMag.com, Casey Johnston declared social media unwell:
It's an established fact of social media services that, once they reach enough size that the potential audience for a post becomes nebulous, people shy from posting on them, because they can't predict what reaction they'll get. This — called "context collapse" — is why we've seen group messaging services boom as broader social media ones have flattened; in your Slack or HipChat or GroupMe, you know how your friends or family will react to a link you post. On an open and unfiltered social media feed, the outcome of posting to a public is far too unpredictable.
In 2014 Prince told Brian Hiatt of Rolling Stone why he had stopping releasing albums:
Prince famously liberated himself from his record deal with Warner Bros. in 1996, and it apparently took him years to realize that his freedom extended to not releasing music. "I write more than I record now, and I also play live a lot more than I record," he says. "I used to record something every day. I always tease that I have to go to studio rehab.

"I'm a very in-the-moment person," he continues. "I do what feels good in the moment. ... I'm not on a schedule, and I don't have any sort of contractual ties. I don't know in history if there's been any musicians that have been self-sufficient like that, not beholden. I have giant bills, large payrolls, so I do have to do tours. ... But there's no need to record anymore." He makes a direct connection between fasting, celibacy and his abstention from recording. "After four days, you don't want food anymore. ... It's like this thing that says, 'Feed me, feed me.' When it realizes it's not going to get fed, it goes away. ... It's the same with music. I had to see what it's like to stop making albums. And then you go, 'Oh, wait a minute, I don't feel the need to do that anymore.'"