Ugh Kat, I've been there. Running the washing machine and hoping I can scrounge up enough blankets for the night. Poor kiddo.

Sad story of the day: After this weekend's shoe discussion, I decided to wear shoes I don't usually wear all this week, but that only lasted two days, because now I have huge blisters on both feet.

Very sad story, Perkins. I have just caught myself perusing the Fluevog site.

That's true also. However, it is my take that these cultural contributions are more valuable eventually than the market deems them.

I'd say that on that standard, the odds fall even further. In any case, this seems orthogonal to the original point, concerning whether a Plan B should be, erm, fucked. Or not.

(I personally agree about art's value, and would be very happy to see more public spending, grants, patronage etc. Quite obviously, that would render some of this particular debate moot, for some people at least. This not being the world in which we live, though, my preferences in this space don't resolve anything.)

If art steals back from capitalism (by, say, Faulkner's very poor customer service at his post office gig) then that's the way it goes.

That's not art stealing back from capitalism, that's Faulkner being a Tino to individual people.

Issues of intellectual property can be pretty fascinating (a friend of mine from uni is now an expert in same, teaching at a uni in Chicago); but once again, this is all not particularly relevant to the issue of whether individuals should sacrifice personal planning and risk management to their muse.

Get rid of those shoes.

Faulkner was such a tino!!!!!

Faulkner was such a tino!!!!!

Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole.

That's because the women he fucked over didn't speak English when they refered to him. Ijs

Isn't that kind of the point of the song? That he TOTES deserved to be called asshole.

OK maybe not the point of the song. But that's totally how I hear it when I listen to it.