Bubby's Blew Us

Yes, yes, yes, it has been rather a long time - we have been struggling with achieving closure on our day job, and dealing with a low-impact, but distracting, little cold. And, of course, we have been leading the smug liberal cultural life that would make the proud denizens of Kansas hate our guts. That said, they apparently hate our guts just for being foreign and in command of an interest in the US electoral process, if some of the more intemperate correspondents assembled in this Guardian piece are in any way representative. The back story, we note, is this rather misguided project that the Guardian launched to convince voters in Clark County, Ohio, that re-electing George Bush would be insane. That even Tony Blair has about as much sway as Hilary Clinton over US foreign policy is lost on the earnest Islington liberals (yeah, we invented sneering at progressives, so there!). Below is a fairly representative example, except for failing, unlike most of the other hostile writers, to make a feeble dig at british dentistry:

Who in the hell do you think you are??? Well, I'll tell you, you're a bunch of meddling socialist pricks! Stay the hell out of our country and politics. And another thing, John Kerry is a worthless lying sack of crap so it doesn't surprise me that a socialist rag like yours would back him. I hope your cynical ploy blows up in your cowardly faces, you bunch of mealy-mouthed morons!

But we digress, although little enough to segue nicely into the first of our appraisals of cultural detritus - namely, Team America: World Police. which has a bunch of familiar targets, including liberal actors and Kim Jong Il. Where it raises its game is as a parody of Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer movies, power ballads, and as a rather long-winded way of pointing out that Americans frequently have very little clue how resented they can be, even when trying to help. The soundtrack is probably better than the South Park: Bigger, Longer And Uncut soundtrack, if only because it has a wider palate and swearier lyrics. Gringcorp's companion is still humming some of the verses.

That was Friday, and Saturday, we scoped out the DUMBO arts festival, or at least wandered around the area finding something to eat. Bubby's told us to get stuffed, so we spent all our cash money on grease at the mighty Front Street Pizza, which had a dancing slice-pimp outside. Nice. We went to very few studios, but were nicely surprised by the guys pushing "Art Appreciation Tonic" (root beer, we understood), and mental swirly-panel beating installation (Derrida, we are sure, would have approved of such a useless description). Final dig - the new Halcyon is like Britney Spears - pretty, but useless. But feel free to ignore us as the Sloper consumer goods-chasing scum that we are: we think West Elm is just soooper.

Coming up: early monasticism, the London immigrant underground, gospel, anime, and that disgusting hack Pataki, in one indigestible wad of text.

The Sox still haven't lost...