About once a week I hit the coffeeshop around the corner for breakfast. A cup of coffee and a bagel plus a tip runs me $4. They serve a fortune cookie with the coffee. Today's fortune:
You have inexhaustible wisdom and power.
31 March 2010
Federal judge overrules USPTO on patents for human genes
A U.S. District Judge has overruled the USPTO, invalidating 7 patents on human genes (152-page PDF).
Thank christ.
The patent holders had argued that isolating the genes had been transformative enough to make the material patentable. The challengers successfully argued that they weren't transforming the genes at all. The case is distinguishable from Chakrabarty because the researchers here isolated the genes and DNA, but didn't create them. And genes, being chemical compounds from nature, are unpatentable subject matter under Section 101 of the patent statute.
The decision is important politically, too. The genes that were sought to be patented have to do with breast cancer. The company that would own the patent on those genes would pwn that area of breast cancer research in the U.S., and here's why. Hospitals, pharmaceutical companies, and other researchers seeking to work on treating or curing breast cancer would be forced to seek a license from the patentholder to use the genes in their research or business. Under-funded yet otherwise skilled and qualified parties would be unable to afford the rights to use the genes in their own research; businesses would forgo developing breast cancer drugs and treatments until the patent expires and they would no longer have to pay to use the genes. And for the next 20 years, breast cancer research would be slowed due to cost and time wasted in the licensing paperwork.
Yet the patent holders argue that patenting human genes incentivizes innovation! Maybe it incentivizes the isolation of genes, especially ones implicated in conditions that attract a lot of research money. But it does exactly the opposite for the broader goal of using what we know about the role of human genes in the operation of diseases.
Note that one of the plaintiffs is the Boston Women's Health Collective.
Thank christ.
The patent holders had argued that isolating the genes had been transformative enough to make the material patentable. The challengers successfully argued that they weren't transforming the genes at all. The case is distinguishable from Chakrabarty because the researchers here isolated the genes and DNA, but didn't create them. And genes, being chemical compounds from nature, are unpatentable subject matter under Section 101 of the patent statute.
The decision is important politically, too. The genes that were sought to be patented have to do with breast cancer. The company that would own the patent on those genes would pwn that area of breast cancer research in the U.S., and here's why. Hospitals, pharmaceutical companies, and other researchers seeking to work on treating or curing breast cancer would be forced to seek a license from the patentholder to use the genes in their research or business. Under-funded yet otherwise skilled and qualified parties would be unable to afford the rights to use the genes in their own research; businesses would forgo developing breast cancer drugs and treatments until the patent expires and they would no longer have to pay to use the genes. And for the next 20 years, breast cancer research would be slowed due to cost and time wasted in the licensing paperwork.
Yet the patent holders argue that patenting human genes incentivizes innovation! Maybe it incentivizes the isolation of genes, especially ones implicated in conditions that attract a lot of research money. But it does exactly the opposite for the broader goal of using what we know about the role of human genes in the operation of diseases.
Note that one of the plaintiffs is the Boston Women's Health Collective.
30 March 2010
On flash mobs, take two
On Saturday 20 March, there was a flash mob on South Street. Jeff Deeney, in discussing his perspective on Philadelphia youth flash mobs over at Phawker, wonders what really happened, considering the Philadelphia media's tendency to play up scary stories for their suburban readers and viewers when it comes to minority youth in the city:
I participated in the WTO protests in Seattle in 1999, and I saw firsthand what happens after tens of thousands of people march peacefully for hours, and then the media notices a few knuckleheads breaking windows after most of the marchers have started to leave for home. All that America saw on the evening news was a few seconds of sensational footage of the window-breakers wearing balaclavas, and none of the hours of footage of pre-teens and their parents wearing rollerblades.
But that said, I also saw firsthand the flash mob on South Street on the 20th. Since I live a half-block from South Street, I know what the usual summer weekend crowds are like. When I got to my front door about 9:30 after seeing a movie with a friend, I saw that the crowd that night was not the usual summer weekend crowd. The people were younger and noisier. There were more people than usual, and they were even less courteous to passersby on the sidewalk. They weren't going in and out of shops; they weren't eating slices of pizza or carrying shopping bags; they weren't stopping in the bars and restaurants. They were pushing around, they were loud, and they were rowdy.
Call me a hopeless bourgeois, but when I see a mass of young people on my neighborhood main street who are clearly not spending money there, I smell trouble. The vibe on South Street that night wasn't one of a bunch of people taking leisurely walks up and down the street and checking each other out. The vibe wasn't one of people from the neighborhood getting out for the first warm weekend evening of spring after a long, cold, lonely winter. It was a few thousand teens looking for mischief.
Now, whether they all got there through Twitter or some other social networking technology, I don't know. So maybe Jeff's right, and it shouldn't properly be called a "flash mob." And I'm sure that the media took only the scariest YouTube videos and only the interviews with the most shocked suburbanites to put on TV and in the paper. I don't want to get on Jeff's case -- aren't we overdue for another lunch together, dude? -- but I hope he hasn't given his readers the impression that South Street wasn't a little nervewracking that night. And I confess I'm a terrible NIMBY when it comes to flash mobs.
But was there even a flash mob? When the story first broke I spent hours scouring Twitter and Facebook looking for evidence of a trail I could track back to those calling for a flash mob, and couldn't find it. I was able to find exactly [one] Twitter feed whose user mentioned getting texts about going to South Street, which, on the first warm Saturday night of the year, most kids would have done anyway. Now Gawker has reported that the flash mob was nothing more than performances by couple dance troupes that got out of control. The fact that the police department was calling it a flash mob organized on social networking sites should have been taken with a grain of salt because anyone who's worked with the department knows that your average Philly cop is CAPS LOCK GUY who still has an AOL account, isn't exactly up on new trends online, and might not be the most reliable source for this kind of information.I don't doubt that a lot of Philly police officers are behind the times when it comes to using the Internet. And I also don't doubt that the Inky and other media outlets are desperate to do what they can for pageviews and TV ratings.
I participated in the WTO protests in Seattle in 1999, and I saw firsthand what happens after tens of thousands of people march peacefully for hours, and then the media notices a few knuckleheads breaking windows after most of the marchers have started to leave for home. All that America saw on the evening news was a few seconds of sensational footage of the window-breakers wearing balaclavas, and none of the hours of footage of pre-teens and their parents wearing rollerblades.
But that said, I also saw firsthand the flash mob on South Street on the 20th. Since I live a half-block from South Street, I know what the usual summer weekend crowds are like. When I got to my front door about 9:30 after seeing a movie with a friend, I saw that the crowd that night was not the usual summer weekend crowd. The people were younger and noisier. There were more people than usual, and they were even less courteous to passersby on the sidewalk. They weren't going in and out of shops; they weren't eating slices of pizza or carrying shopping bags; they weren't stopping in the bars and restaurants. They were pushing around, they were loud, and they were rowdy.
Call me a hopeless bourgeois, but when I see a mass of young people on my neighborhood main street who are clearly not spending money there, I smell trouble. The vibe on South Street that night wasn't one of a bunch of people taking leisurely walks up and down the street and checking each other out. The vibe wasn't one of people from the neighborhood getting out for the first warm weekend evening of spring after a long, cold, lonely winter. It was a few thousand teens looking for mischief.
Now, whether they all got there through Twitter or some other social networking technology, I don't know. So maybe Jeff's right, and it shouldn't properly be called a "flash mob." And I'm sure that the media took only the scariest YouTube videos and only the interviews with the most shocked suburbanites to put on TV and in the paper. I don't want to get on Jeff's case -- aren't we overdue for another lunch together, dude? -- but I hope he hasn't given his readers the impression that South Street wasn't a little nervewracking that night. And I confess I'm a terrible NIMBY when it comes to flash mobs.
Driberally tonight
Drinking Liberally is a weekly social gathering where progressives talk politics and get to know one another. In Center City Philadelphia, we meet on Tuesday nights at José Pistola's upstairs bar, where there are drink and food specials from 6:00 to 9:00 p.m. I hope to see you there!
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. There's a parking garage across the street, but as filthy liberal hippies naturally we suggest public transit; both SEPTA and PATCO will get you there in two shakes of a lamb's tail.
This week's topic: People wonder why I still pay every last one of my bills with paper checks rather an with automatic withdrawals from my bank.
"Come for the beer, stay for the check"
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. There's a parking garage across the street, but as filthy liberal hippies naturally we suggest public transit; both SEPTA and PATCO will get you there in two shakes of a lamb's tail.
This week's topic: People wonder why I still pay every last one of my bills with paper checks rather an with automatic withdrawals from my bank.
"Come for the beer, stay for the check"
29 March 2010
25 March 2010
On flash mobs and avoiding them
Between teenage boredom, youth un- and under-employment, and parental ineffectiveness, it looks as though it's going to be the summer of the flash mobs. If the city can't make the flash mobs go away, I think I'm going to have to move to a neighborhood that's less transit-accessible.
South Street's a noisy place. I knew that when I moved here five years ago, and most of the time I go with the flow. Our bedrooms are in the back, away from the traffic. I like being so close to the historic district on one side and a full-service neighborhood on the other. But I don't like feeling trapped in my home on a Friday or Saturday night because I live near an attractive destination: that is, one that's easy to identify in a text message ("5th and South" or "the Gallery") and easy get to on foot or by public transit ("40th Street" or "Broad and South").
I think this summer will decide whether I stay here or move a little ways away, to some section of the city that seems too inconvenient for the flash mobs but tolerable for someone who doesn't want to own car.
In the meantime, if you hear about a flash mob you can anonymously report it to the police at (215)686-TIPS.
South Street's a noisy place. I knew that when I moved here five years ago, and most of the time I go with the flow. Our bedrooms are in the back, away from the traffic. I like being so close to the historic district on one side and a full-service neighborhood on the other. But I don't like feeling trapped in my home on a Friday or Saturday night because I live near an attractive destination: that is, one that's easy to identify in a text message ("5th and South" or "the Gallery") and easy get to on foot or by public transit ("40th Street" or "Broad and South").
I think this summer will decide whether I stay here or move a little ways away, to some section of the city that seems too inconvenient for the flash mobs but tolerable for someone who doesn't want to own car.
In the meantime, if you hear about a flash mob you can anonymously report it to the police at (215)686-TIPS.
24 March 2010
Sons of the broken glass
I'd say he's calling for a modern Kristallnacht but, you know, I wouldn't want to Godwin the discussion or anything:
Mike Vanderboegh of Pinson, Ala., former leader of the Alabama Constitutional Militia, put out a call on Friday for modern “Sons of Liberty” to break the windows of Democratic Party offices nationwide in opposition to health care reform. Since then, vandals have struck several offices, including the Sedgwick County Democratic Party headquarters in Wichita.But not just Kansas: also in Arizona and two separate offices in New York. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and John the Baptist on a pogo stick, people.
Another day, another article about glorious non-lawyering work for lawyers
Another day, another news article about how challenging and yet fun and rewarding it is to find a career outside the lawyer's traditional career path -- focusing on lawyers who found their non-traditional jobs after they'd spent some time on the traditional career path.
These articles are not helpful for those of us who recently graduated but who, though absolutely qualified, were never invited onto that path in the first place! I'm not sure how often I have to repeat that to career offices, professional magazines, and current and former lawyers who think they're trying to cheer me up.
Now, understand: I wouldn't want to be working in a law school career services office right now. There are no jobs. The big firms saw profits last year despite the economy because they laid off associates and drastically reduced their new-hire classes, and they're not going to turn around and do anything to reduce those profits now, like hiring more associates. I mean, if it were me, I'd put the firms on a rotating schedule and be on the phone daily with them, asking them how many of my graduates they will hire from me this year. But what do I know? I wasn't in academia, and I wasn't in big business, either. But I was an entrepreneur for ten years, and I know that if your business is to move product, you have to contact your customers on a regular basis and remind them that their job is to buy it.
These articles are not helpful for those of us who recently graduated but who, though absolutely qualified, were never invited onto that path in the first place! I'm not sure how often I have to repeat that to career offices, professional magazines, and current and former lawyers who think they're trying to cheer me up.
Now, understand: I wouldn't want to be working in a law school career services office right now. There are no jobs. The big firms saw profits last year despite the economy because they laid off associates and drastically reduced their new-hire classes, and they're not going to turn around and do anything to reduce those profits now, like hiring more associates. I mean, if it were me, I'd put the firms on a rotating schedule and be on the phone daily with them, asking them how many of my graduates they will hire from me this year. But what do I know? I wasn't in academia, and I wasn't in big business, either. But I was an entrepreneur for ten years, and I know that if your business is to move product, you have to contact your customers on a regular basis and remind them that their job is to buy it.
23 March 2010
Driberally tonight
Drinking Liberally is a weekly social gathering where progressives talk politics and get to know one another. In Center City Philadelphia, we meet on Tuesday nights at José Pistola's upstairs bar, where there are drink and food specials from 6:00 to 9:00 p.m. I hope to see you there!
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. There's a parking garage across the street, but as filthy liberal hippies naturally we suggest public transit; both SEPTA and PATCO will get you there in two shakes of a lamb's tail.
This week's topic: To note the passage and today's signing into law of the historic health insurance reform bill, we'll have a roundtable disclosure of all our pre-existing conditions! I'll start: last night, I had rice and beans for dinner.
"Come for the beer, stay for the check"
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. There's a parking garage across the street, but as filthy liberal hippies naturally we suggest public transit; both SEPTA and PATCO will get you there in two shakes of a lamb's tail.
This week's topic: To note the passage and today's signing into law of the historic health insurance reform bill, we'll have a roundtable disclosure of all our pre-existing conditions! I'll start: last night, I had rice and beans for dinner.
"Come for the beer, stay for the check"
19 March 2010
Friday jukebox: Symphony of Science
About the only good use anyone has put Auto-Tune to:
We're made of star stuff"We Are All Connected" by Symphony of Science.
We are a way for the cosmos to know itself
Across the sea of space
The stars are other suns
We have traveled this way before
And there is much to be learned
17 March 2010
Glomarization's Irish blessing
May those who love us love us.
And for those who do not love us,
may God turn their hearts.
And if He will not turn their hearts,
may He turn their ankles
that we will know them by their limping.
And for those who do not love us,
may God turn their hearts.
And if He will not turn their hearts,
may He turn their ankles
that we will know them by their limping.
16 March 2010
Driberally tonight
Drinking Liberally is a weekly social gathering where progressives talk politics and get to know one another. In Center City Philadelphia, we meet on Tuesday nights at José Pistola's upstairs bar, where there are drink and food specials from 6:00 to 9:00 p.m. I hope to see you there!
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. There's a parking garage across the street, but as filthy liberal hippies naturally we suggest transit. Via SEPTA:
"Come for the beer, stay for the check"
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. There's a parking garage across the street, but as filthy liberal hippies naturally we suggest transit. Via SEPTA:
- Regional Rail at Suburban Station
- the Market-Frankford El at 15th Street station
- the Broad Street Line at Walnut-Locust station
- all of the subway-surface lines at 15th Street station
- several buses: east-west routes on Chestnut and Walnut Streets (9, 12, 21, 40, 42), some north-south routes nearby (2, 17, 23), and routes on Broad Street (27, 32, C)
- the closest station is 15th-16th and Locust
- at 6:00 when we start, trains run every 4 to 12 minutes
- after Drinking Liberally officially ends at 9:00, trains run every 20 minutes back to New Jersey
"Come for the beer, stay for the check"
15 March 2010
Men I've dated, part n in a series
Ever date someone who was so gorgeous and witty and talented that you couldn't believe they were slumming it with you?
He's a performance artist, actor, and filmmaker. When he lived in Philly he paid his bills by working for a moving company. He didn't need to belong to a gym. Some large two-digit percentage of his body was tattooed, most of it professionally, some of it half-covering a few old scratches that looked as though he'd done them himself.
We met at a weekly artists' social night shortly after I moved to Philadelphia, when I was still married. After my husband and I split, he wasn't in the immediate wave of men in that circle of friends who started hitting on me -- he waited until he was between girlfriends, instead.
There's a coffee shop around the corner from my home, and we met there. It was unusual to see him in daylight. He knew me as someone who dabbled in experimental films and worked on a couple of local productions. I explained that before filmmaking I'd worked for about 10 years in the dot-com industry. "The 1990s were great," I said. "If you could just say the word Internet you could get forty grand a year and free pizza and beer until you tripled your body weight."
"I don't know what the Internet is for," he responded, "other than porn."
We slept together only twice, I think. Most of the time I was speechless that someone so hilarious, talented, and ripped would bother to spend time with me. I don't know what his motivations were: Curiosity about someone who works 9 to 5, rather than artist's hours? Had he heard something about me from another filmmaker? Simply trying to get through a dry spell? We didn't exactly have much in common to talk about, and our conversations were limited.
He quit seeing me very soon. He met a burlesque dancer (or was she a roller-derby skater? Likely both) whose name is a flower and who must be ten years younger than myself. He was shy about it. I approached him after one of the artists' social nights, and I asked him if he'd like to share a cab home with me. He hemmed and hawed a little, so I said, "Ah. So you don't want to come home with me. That's OK." I smiled.
"Well, no. I mean, I do," he said. "But I don't think she'd like me to," and he indicated the dancer.
"Oh! I didn't know you were seeing her. That's great! She's really sweet. I'm really happy for you." I knew it couldn't last and I had been thoroughly, thoroughly enjoying every second we spent in bed together and every mid-day memory that came up in between. He looked relieved. It was so cute. He gave me a quick squeeze with one arm -- one rock-hard, heavily illustrated arm -- and crossed the dark street to the stoop where the artists looked as though they'd be spending the rest of the night. It must have been 2:30 in the morning, and I knew I'd be waiting for a bus for a while since the El wasn't running any more that night.
I think my attitude was the reason why he had such an enthusiastic response for me when I found him on Facebook recently.
He's moved on to another roller-derby skater (or is she a burlesque dancer? Anyway she's the spitting image of the actress Maggie Gyllenhaal) now, and his Facebook photos show that they've done some world traveling together. He's been moved to a type of emeritus status with the moving company since his performance art work has him permanently in New York these days. I think his next show will be there in New York next month. Maybe I'll go see it.
He's a performance artist, actor, and filmmaker. When he lived in Philly he paid his bills by working for a moving company. He didn't need to belong to a gym. Some large two-digit percentage of his body was tattooed, most of it professionally, some of it half-covering a few old scratches that looked as though he'd done them himself.
We met at a weekly artists' social night shortly after I moved to Philadelphia, when I was still married. After my husband and I split, he wasn't in the immediate wave of men in that circle of friends who started hitting on me -- he waited until he was between girlfriends, instead.
There's a coffee shop around the corner from my home, and we met there. It was unusual to see him in daylight. He knew me as someone who dabbled in experimental films and worked on a couple of local productions. I explained that before filmmaking I'd worked for about 10 years in the dot-com industry. "The 1990s were great," I said. "If you could just say the word Internet you could get forty grand a year and free pizza and beer until you tripled your body weight."
"I don't know what the Internet is for," he responded, "other than porn."
We slept together only twice, I think. Most of the time I was speechless that someone so hilarious, talented, and ripped would bother to spend time with me. I don't know what his motivations were: Curiosity about someone who works 9 to 5, rather than artist's hours? Had he heard something about me from another filmmaker? Simply trying to get through a dry spell? We didn't exactly have much in common to talk about, and our conversations were limited.
He quit seeing me very soon. He met a burlesque dancer (or was she a roller-derby skater? Likely both) whose name is a flower and who must be ten years younger than myself. He was shy about it. I approached him after one of the artists' social nights, and I asked him if he'd like to share a cab home with me. He hemmed and hawed a little, so I said, "Ah. So you don't want to come home with me. That's OK." I smiled.
"Well, no. I mean, I do," he said. "But I don't think she'd like me to," and he indicated the dancer.
"Oh! I didn't know you were seeing her. That's great! She's really sweet. I'm really happy for you." I knew it couldn't last and I had been thoroughly, thoroughly enjoying every second we spent in bed together and every mid-day memory that came up in between. He looked relieved. It was so cute. He gave me a quick squeeze with one arm -- one rock-hard, heavily illustrated arm -- and crossed the dark street to the stoop where the artists looked as though they'd be spending the rest of the night. It must have been 2:30 in the morning, and I knew I'd be waiting for a bus for a while since the El wasn't running any more that night.
I think my attitude was the reason why he had such an enthusiastic response for me when I found him on Facebook recently.
He's moved on to another roller-derby skater (or is she a burlesque dancer? Anyway she's the spitting image of the actress Maggie Gyllenhaal) now, and his Facebook photos show that they've done some world traveling together. He's been moved to a type of emeritus status with the moving company since his performance art work has him permanently in New York these days. I think his next show will be there in New York next month. Maybe I'll go see it.
14 March 2010
13 March 2010
Music night at the Green Line Café
Our next entry in "How to stalk Glomarization, Esq." this weekend: The Dill Pickles are coming out of hibernation tonight.
12 March 2010
Movie night at Moore College of Art and Design
Our most recent entry in the ongoing "How to Stalk Glomarization, Esq." series:
Tonight The Secret Cinema is presenting a program of surrealist animated shorts at the Moore College of Art and Design, 20th and Race Streets in Philadelphia:$5 $7.
I'm really looking forward to this program. There'll be stuff by Ub Iwerks and some of the other brilliant, brilliant talents of early American animation. YouTube just don't do their work justice; you truly have to see "the old Pin Cushion Man, terror of Ballooney-Land" projected on a real screen to appreciate the art: not just the animation and music, but also the Cinecolor and other detail that doesn't come through when you're talking pixels and video refresh rates.
Tonight The Secret Cinema is presenting a program of surrealist animated shorts at the Moore College of Art and Design, 20th and Race Streets in Philadelphia:
Surrealism in American Animation will offer a sampling of the craziest, most imaginative, and funniest creations from the pens of classic Hollywood animators, with an emphasis on rarely shown films, from studios famous and obscure. These cartoons -- shown using scarce, beautiful prints culled from private archives, many in glorious I.B. Technicolor or shimmering black and white -- display the full range of classic animators' art and craft. Most of these cartoons have never been shown before by us.Show is at 8:00 p.m.; admission is a low, low
I'm really looking forward to this program. There'll be stuff by Ub Iwerks and some of the other brilliant, brilliant talents of early American animation. YouTube just don't do their work justice; you truly have to see "the old Pin Cushion Man, terror of Ballooney-Land" projected on a real screen to appreciate the art: not just the animation and music, but also the Cinecolor and other detail that doesn't come through when you're talking pixels and video refresh rates.
11 March 2010
How Philadelphia informed Barfly
Following the bouncing links today, I caught these lines from Charles Bukowski, speaking to Roger Ebert about Barfly:
"I knew the morning bartender. He would let me in at 5 a.m. I'd get two hours of free drinks before the bar opened at 7. I'd stay in the bar until it closed. I got three hours of sleep, from 2 a.m. to 5 a.m."Bukowski didn't spend much time in Philadelphia, but I keep saying that there's a very good reason why the two alcoholics I dated lived in that neighborhood.
"Where was this bar located?" I asked him.
"It was located in two places, because this story is based on two different bars. One of them was in Philadelphia, at 16th and Fairmont [sic]. It no longer exists. The other one was here in L.A., at 6th and Alvarado."
09 March 2010
Driberally tonight
Drinking Liberally is a weekly social gathering where progressives talk politics and get to know one another. In Center City Philadelphia, we meet on Tuesday nights at José Pistola's upstairs bar (note that this is a new location!), where there are drink and food specials from 6:00 to 9:00 p.m. I hope to see you there!
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. It's conveniently SEPTA-accessible via Regional Rail (Suburban Station), the Market-Frankford El (15th Street station), the Broad Street Line (Walnut-Locust station), all of the subway-surface lines (15th Street station), several east-west buses on Chestnut and Walnut Streets (9, 12, 21, 40, 42), some north-south buses (2, 17, 23), and buses on Broad Street (27, 32, C). If SEPTA can get you to Center City, then you can get to Drinking Liberally Center City!
This week's topic: Spread the word! We're in a new location this week. If you know someone who comes to Drinking Liberally but who hasn't gotten the word that we've moved, please let them know. Thanks! Also:
José Pistola's is at 263 South 15th Street (15th and Spruce) in Center City, near the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music. It's conveniently SEPTA-accessible via Regional Rail (Suburban Station), the Market-Frankford El (15th Street station), the Broad Street Line (Walnut-Locust station), all of the subway-surface lines (15th Street station), several east-west buses on Chestnut and Walnut Streets (9, 12, 21, 40, 42), some north-south buses (2, 17, 23), and buses on Broad Street (27, 32, C). If SEPTA can get you to Center City, then you can get to Drinking Liberally Center City!
This week's topic: Spread the word! We're in a new location this week. If you know someone who comes to Drinking Liberally but who hasn't gotten the word that we've moved, please let them know. Thanks! Also:
To mark our inaugural event at Jose Pistola's, we will have a special guest dropping by: Democratic candidate for governor Joe Hoeffel. Joe has been endorsed by Philly for Change and other progressive organizations. Come on out to talk with the person who may be the next great liberal leader of the Commonwealth and help DL make its new location a success."Come for the beer, stay for the check"
08 March 2010
Monday art house: Vivian Maier
Vivian Maier was a 20th century autodiadact photographer in Chicago. Her work wasn't discovered until after her death, and this guy has been posting one photo every few days to a blog:
When I see a photo like this one, I'm not sure if a kid's life used to be more dangerous or more fun.
When I see a photo like this one, I'm not sure if a kid's life used to be more dangerous or more fun.
05 March 2010
Life is intervening lately
Life is intervening lately, curtailing my online time.
Professional life is busy, if still mostly unpaid. I finally renewed my membership at the Jenkins Law Library, a task I'd been putting off for weeks for reasons of inconvenience. Not too coincidentally, I have some research I have to do for a client meeting (unpaid) on Saturday. It's nice to have my LexisNexis back.
Had lunch with a local lawyer yesterday who said he wanted to pick my brain about starting up his own firm. Actually he was basically asking me for a job. I was nice. I didn't laugh until after we'd gone our separate ways.
Personal life is busy, if only in my mind. Crushing hard on someone who's not interested. Story of my life.
Partial custody life is busy. The ex's near-hoarding, chronic disorganization problem interfered in my life massively this week: missed appointment, behavior problems with our daughter, and a last-minute change of plans for the weekend that affect not just me but at least two other households. So lately I've been even crankier than my usual baseline level of general irritation at the world. I recognize that a lot of my problem is that his conduct is pushing some buttons of mine that don't get pushed as frequently as they did before we split. Since I'm not used to it any more, it's a little harder to recognize and head off at the pass before it pisses me off. And I shouldn't "concern troll" and be irritated on behalf of the other two households. But I've got a lot on my plate right now and this is one huge thing that I pushed off of my plate some years ago. I hate it when it pushes its way back on.
Promised myself a couple of weeks ago to force myself to get out of the house for a few hours every day, and not just to fetch my daughter home from school or attend my minimal weekly obligations. It's been a very good decision, even if it's meant that this blog and a couple of other online "commitments" have suffered.
I saw a robin on the north side of Independence Hall this morning.
Professional life is busy, if still mostly unpaid. I finally renewed my membership at the Jenkins Law Library, a task I'd been putting off for weeks for reasons of inconvenience. Not too coincidentally, I have some research I have to do for a client meeting (unpaid) on Saturday. It's nice to have my LexisNexis back.
Had lunch with a local lawyer yesterday who said he wanted to pick my brain about starting up his own firm. Actually he was basically asking me for a job. I was nice. I didn't laugh until after we'd gone our separate ways.
Personal life is busy, if only in my mind. Crushing hard on someone who's not interested. Story of my life.
Partial custody life is busy. The ex's near-hoarding, chronic disorganization problem interfered in my life massively this week: missed appointment, behavior problems with our daughter, and a last-minute change of plans for the weekend that affect not just me but at least two other households. So lately I've been even crankier than my usual baseline level of general irritation at the world. I recognize that a lot of my problem is that his conduct is pushing some buttons of mine that don't get pushed as frequently as they did before we split. Since I'm not used to it any more, it's a little harder to recognize and head off at the pass before it pisses me off. And I shouldn't "concern troll" and be irritated on behalf of the other two households. But I've got a lot on my plate right now and this is one huge thing that I pushed off of my plate some years ago. I hate it when it pushes its way back on.
Promised myself a couple of weeks ago to force myself to get out of the house for a few hours every day, and not just to fetch my daughter home from school or attend my minimal weekly obligations. It's been a very good decision, even if it's meant that this blog and a couple of other online "commitments" have suffered.
I saw a robin on the north side of Independence Hall this morning.
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