Right Reading does not normally do product recommendations. But recently we ordered this product, and so far we are encouraged by the results. You just drill down. The label does advise that “the decomposition, depending on the density of the trump, make take several weeks or months.”
Page 2 of 50
1616 was an eventful year, the British Shakespeare died, the Spanish side of the car also died Sevan Tethys, years ago, Thomas Christensen wrote tasty Universal Modern History, interception of the title of the year is 1616, the year of motion! Shakespeare referred to the book and the death of the Cypriot public, as if that were not the Soul Lihen Tang Gongzi, it was not bad, anyway, but I can not Linchuan Four Dreams realize what’s contemporary …
So Google translates … something. An article or a catalogue, I guess. I’d give a link if I was sure it wasn’t some ripoff. Regardless, though I don’t know what the original says in Chinese, I think the big G’s translation is marvelous.
People who skip the sports section miss some extraordinary writing.
Advancing to the Western Conference finals, a championship team will step up its game. And the San Francisco Chronicle sportswriting team did not disappoint. Today’s Sporting Green is an astonishing mix of strained conceits, purple patches, and semi-literate clichés. Let’s focus on the conceits. Here are our awards.
STRAINED CONCEIT CHAMPION
This award has to go to Bruce Jenkins, who writes:
Cruising a straight-line highway with another NBA championship in mind, the Warriors always knew there would be an intersection when the playoffs arrived. The signpost would read SAN ANTONIO, and everyone around the league was in on the secret. ¶ Well, it seems there’s a maintenance crew about ready to change the lettering ….
A highway sign that everyone knows about but is nonetheless a secret, which a maintenance crew is preparing to reletter. Riiiiggght. (What he means is “The Warriors expected to play the Spurs but they might play the Thunder instead.”)
STRAINED CONCEIT RUNNER UP
A trumped-up story many writers got mileage from (on Bruce Jenkins’s straight-line highway?) was Dubs forward Draymond Green saying before the game that Portland was done in the series. It inspired Rusty Simmons to write this:
If their teammate was publicly going to out on a limb [sic] like that, they had to reinforce the tree.
Good thing a maintenance crew is already on the scene!
STRAINED CONCEIT HONORABLE MENTION
Scott Ostler’s conceit is not in the same category as these. It’s too good not to quote. He writes that last year’s Warriors team
were like kids on their first trip to Disneyland. This season they’re Mickey Mouse, taking a break behind the castle, removing his head to have a smoke before wading back out there to wave and thrill the kiddies.
Nifty shift from plural to singular there.
So there you have it. All of these guys must have read Raymond Chandler at an impressionable age.
I’ll resist the urge to introduce additional categories, such as the “BIG SAVINGS FROM LAYING OFF THE COPY EDITORS AWARD.” That’s a dull category in which there is competition every day. Today it could go to Simmons for writing “to out” instead of “to go out,” but I would give it instead to Ann Killion for “ Portland grew it’s lead to double digits.”
For more examples, from “he ain’t no one-engine pony” to “his ceiling is through the roof” to “I have to put my head to the grindstone and keep grinding” to “I’m going to turn this team around 360 degrees,” visit my Away with Words.
Image via http://bit.ly/1s2hC0k
Sorry, folks, for all these category sticky posts, which will head pages in various categories and gradually gather together helpful links outside the blog relevant to them. I don’t think I can remove them from the blog home, but they will slide down the page soon enough. This is all the result of recent website reorganization in which I have begun using separate home pages for desktop and mobile devices.
This post will be sticky in the “publishing” category. Really about 80 percent of the content at rightreading.com is related to publishing, but a subset of posts at blog.rightreading.com is devoted explicitly to publishing. Enjoy.
A few links for starters:
- How to get a book published (the traditional way)
- The most helpful books about writing and publishing
- Tom’s Glossary of Book Publishing Terms
- How to figure an advance against royalties
- How to read a book
- Mercury House Publishing
- North Point Press
- Catamaran Literary Reader
- Notable rejection letters
- On blurbs
This post will be sticky in the “webwork” category. I’ve had a site on the web since December 1994. The beginning was the first Mercury House website, on which I had some personal pages that grew into the current site. I favor an artisanal web presence over the cooky-cutter prefab web sites you often see. But I’m hardly a hardcore coder. Still, over 22 years you do pick up a trick or two.
Rightreading.com exists in two versions: the desktop version is mainly a simple image map (old school!) while the mobile version is based on the 960 griid system. Since 2006 I’ve used WordPress for much of the new material (exceptions are mainly extended content), and increasingly links go to WordPress category pages, where sticky posts like this one provide additional links.
This post will be sticky in the “photography” category. Most of my photography these days is either travel or garden/nature. There are a lot of the latter at Tom’s Garden: recommended! At one time I had a photo-specific blog on this site, and there was a lot of travel photography here and there. I will gradually make all of that accessible from this sticky post on the category page.
A few years ago I redid my home page and other parts of my rightreading.com site. Mainly I was bored and decided to learn the 960 web design system. But now I feel the new home page is too static and not as much fun as the old one, and I’m reverting. The new (ancient, really, and now revived) home page looks like this (I might upgrade the quality of the Goya image, if I’m not too lazy; images in this post, BTW, are also links):
Here’s the 960-grid homepage. I do like the carousel. I think I will convert this into my bio page.
It would replace the current bio page, which looks like this:
The one thing I need to figure out how to do is to use the 960 page for mobile devices and the Goya page for desktop. I’ll have to research how that is down (unless someone want to save me the time and just tell me).
And so we move on . . .
In London in December 1598 a group of actors and other theatrical professionals, part of a company called the Chamberlain’s Men, armed themselves with “swords, daggers, bills, axes, and such like.” In the bitter cold they waited for nightfall in the northeastern suburb of Shoreditch, “a disreputable place, frequented by courtesans.” Their target was an abandoned entertainment complex called The Theatre, where they had performed for several years until being barred by their landlord over political and financial disputes. Now, under cover of night, they systematically disassembled the theater and transported its timbers to a warehouse by the Thames. Within months they would use them to build a new theater south of the river.
But what to call it? The group felt the need to rebrand. Competitors had sprung up all over town. The generic name “The Theatre” would no longer distinguish the company. Their creative team, which included the shareholder, playwright, and actor Will Shakespeare, set to work. The name they came up with was “The Globe.” It would be “a wide and universal theatre.”
What made the globe such a compelling brand at the turn of the sixteenth to seventeenth century? For one thing, it was during this period that the world became truly global in the sense that regular trade — of ideas as well as goods — connected all of the inhabited continents. Thanks to the new maritime traffic, adventurers, diplomats, traders, and missionaries spread throughout the world. Among them was a group of Jesuits who gained access to Ming China. The most famous of these was an Italian, Matteo Ricci, who arrived in Macau in 1583, established connections with Chinese literati, and lived in that country until his death in 1610 (when Shakespeare was working on The Tempest).
China had once explored the far reaches of the world in giant ships under the direction of the eunuch Zheng He, but the Chinese had concluded that there was little in distant parts that was up to their standards, and they had officially curtailed such oceanic expeditions. An illicit maritime commerce based in south China was winked at, but it extended mainly from Southeast Asia to Japan, leaving much of the world unmapped by the Chinese. So Ricci and his fellow Jesuits armed themselves with celestial and geographic knowledge derived from the new scientific developments and explorations of the Europeans.
The European astronomical refinements impressed the Chinese, whose emperor derived authority from the “mandate of heaven.” With the long-lived Ming dynasty showing clear signs of decay, it was worth scrutinizing the skies more carefully for augurs of change. Not only that, but the distant world was increasingly knocking on Chinese doors. The Portuguese had been first, but now the Spanish had become involved through their outpost in the Philippines. Even upstart nations like Shakespeare’s Britain were starting to dip their toes in distant waters. Who were these barbarians with their great ships?
Ricci found a keen audience for his geographic knowledge. In 1584—when Shakespeare was twenty and learning his trade—Ricci, with the help of Chinese colleagues, produced a large woodblock-printed Chinese-language map of the entire world. It was an extraordinary achievement that eventually came even to the attention of the dissolute and reclusive Ming monarch, the Wanli emperor. Ricci was called to the capital, where, in 1602—around the time Shakespeare was writing Twelfth Night, Troilus and Cresida, and All’s Well That Ends Well—he created an even grander and substantially updated map. It incorporated Asian knowledge of the world obtained from Ricci’s Chinese colleagues as well as new geographical information that had arrived from Europe.
In 1966 the Asian Art Museum opened as a branch of the de Young Museum in Golden Gate Park. As a condition of the second of two major major gifts of artworks to the city of San Francisco from industrialist and Olympics head Avery Brundage (who can currently be seen portrayed by Jeremy Irons in the movie Race), the museum was separate administratively from the de Young, though that distinction was probably lost on most visitors. Brundage’s collection was extraordinary, and the museum’s holdings remain San Francisco’s most valuable asset—apart from its real estate, and we all know how that has gone.
In 2003 the museum moved to its current home in what was formerly the main branch of the SF public library, repurposed for the new use by Milanese architect Gae Aulenti. Now it is celebrating the 50th anniversary of its original opening to the public, and I attended a press preview for the opening of two special exhibitions, China at the Center: Rare Ricci and Verbiest World Maps and Hidden Gold: Mining Its Meaning in Asian Art. A third special exhibition, Pearls on a String: Artists, Patrons, and Poets at the Great Islamic Courts, opened Feb. 26 and will continue until May 8. In the coming days I plan to review all three of these exhibitions.
So how does the museum look on the occasion of its 50th? I’m happy to report that the answer is: spectacular! There are a couple of walls devoted to museum history in the space between Osher and Hambrecht Galleries (which the museum calls the Vinson Nook) and along the corridor behind its gift shop (which it calls the Hamon Arcade). But the display is tastefully done and not excessive. My fear was that the anniversary displays would be excessively self-referential, as was sometimes the case for past museum celebrations. But someone at the museum must have realized that however interesting such material may be for staff, board, and donors (and those interested in city history), it is not as compelling to most visitors as are actual artworks.
“Every separation is a link” — Simone Weil
- Rats review NYC pizzas : Will Grimaldi’s sue the rats?
- How Capicola became Gabagool : Origins of the New Jersey Italian accent
- The Seven Types of Poetry : According to Robert Peale
- Small is beautiful : In book publishing
- The mixed up brothers of Bogotá : Farce or tragedy?
- Empire of letters : The Los Angeles Review of Books
- Fake publicist catfishes bloggers : Maximizing effort for minimal return
- The racist origins of Oregon : My birthplace
Tri-boro Barber School, 264 Bowery, Manhattan, 1935-1939, by Berenice Abbott (1898-1991). Photograph; gelatin silver print, matte. The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Photography Collection, The New York Public Library. New York Public Library Digital Collections.
It’s encouraging to see libraries and museums beginning to make public domain images freely available, increasingly providing high-resolution scans or photos for downloading. Historically, they have guarded images of objects in their collections as a private source of income. Count the New York Public Library among the honorable elite who have made their pd images available to be shared. The library has just put up more than 180,000 images in hi-res free for the downloading. Highlights of the collection include photographs from the Farm Security Administration and Works Progress Administration, Medieval and Renaissance manuscripts, Walt Whitman papers (1854–1892), and early film shorts.