Good news: I just received an email indicating that America’s largest accrediting body for hospitals has passed a new regulation that requires all hospitals to have an LGBT non-discrimination policy before they can be accredited.
Bad news: There’s no speedy timetable to force state hospital associations to enforce the mandate, meaning that it could be several years before it’s widespread.
Good news: You can help by sending a message to your state hospital association, urging them to fast-track the process. All you have to do is click here. I can’t give you a lollipop when you’re done, but I promise, it won’t hurt a bit.
Want more info? Have at it.
"Europe According to Britain" by Alphadesigner
I’ve never really been a “theatre person”. True, I’ve spent good bit of time on and off the stage since fourth grade. And yes, technically, I have a degree in the field, but it’s academic (an M.A.), not fine arts (an M.F.A.). I would never consider myself a “theatre artist”, because to me, it’s always been a pastime, a leisure activity — even though the pace has not always been leisurely.
However, while studying for my degree, I did take some fine arts classes. There was no getting around it: I was the only M.A. candidate in the theatre department, so there wasn’t a full curriculum for me to take. (Universities aren’t really keen on paying profs to teach classes for just one student.) Out of necessity, I had to enroll in courses meant for students in other degree programs. And apart from some independent studies and a handful of classes in English lit and criticism, most of the courses I took were the ones meant for M.F.A. candidates in directing and design. I was totally out of my element.
But one thing I did enjoy — and almost understood — was the emotional collage. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a collage of images, textures, music, or whatever else helps describe your response to a play. Sometimes, the items are literal (e.g. you’ve just read Uncle Vanya, and you’re suddenly obsessed with samovars), and sometimes they’re not (e.g. Twelfth Night might inspire thoughts of purple).
And so, my emotional collage for me. Today.
[via Sissydude]
Philip Guston, "Untitled (Cherries)" 1980
John Currin, "The Pink Tree" (1999)
John Currin, "Bea Arthur Nude", 1991
Australis texture by pareeerica
Earth Day 2010 by Jamie Heiden
Untitled, by Jonno
…because tonight is opening night for The Really Desperate Housewives of Stepford Parish.
Yes, I am a little overwhelmed.
Yes, I am a little underslept.
Yes, I will get a little better.
But only if you COME SEE OUR DAMN SHOW.
(I’m good with the soft sell, no?)
Well, at least it appears that way.
He could be scratching or readjusting or just letting his hand rest where it may. Or perhaps he was thinking about his beloved Big Penis Book, got an inappropriate, involuntary reaction, and had to hide something, just like when you were called up to the chalkboard in 8th grade algebra class.
Do kids still get called up to the chalkboard? Do they even know what chalk is? Oh, for simpler, chalk-and-erection-filled days.
Maybe you remember it: about a year and a half ago, Bush fils offered Chrysler its first round of bailout dough, and many Americans weren’t happy about it. Of course, more often than not, those folks were technically “Merikens”, who somehow managed to blame Obama for the governmental support, but that’s neither here nor there.
To smooth things over, Chrysler decided that it would take out giant-sized ads in the Wall Street Journal and USA Today, which are, incidentally, the newspapers of record for Merikens. Written out in ginormous, respectable, authoritative serifs were the words “THANK YOU AMERICA”, followed by some smaller-point tripe about what folks in the good ol’ USofA could expect from their comrades in Auburn Hills.
Problem is, the ads only made people angrier — not only because of the missing direct-address comma in the copy (which was maddening enough), but also because the bajillions of dollars that Chrysler spent to run those ads could’ve probably been put to better use. Like, say, developing cars that might actually sell so that Chrysler wouldn’t need to borrow cash from the feds in the future.
What Chrysler had forgotten was the all-important Mean Girls Rule: Sometimes, Bitches Just Be Hatin’. In non-playground parlance: every so often, people want to vilify you. In fact, they need to vilify you, whether it’s for legitimate reasons (you stole their money/man/job) or illegitimate reasons (you chose the same theme for your Twitter page). At the time, Chrysler was a punching bag, and anything the company did or said was twisted around to make matters worse. It just needed to sit quietly and take its licks.
And now, BP.
These two ads ran in yesterday’s Wall Street Journal (top) and New York Times (bottom), which are, incidentally, the newspapers of record for a divided America. Take a good look and read that copy.
Are you snarking yet?
Tony, Tony, Tony, if you’re listening, please take some unsolicited advice:
1) Skip the feelgood branding ads. I’m sure your gas station franchisees appreciate the effort, but it’s a waste of money right now.
2) Perhaps you should take the dough you’d spend on such ads — how much is that? $50,000? $100,000? — and build a berm or two. Or put it in reserve. Or better yet, retain some more attorneys. Because you are going to be sued nine ways to Sunday by every person, place, and thing along the Gulf. Probably including Cuba. I’d wish you good luck, but I, like the bitches, be hatin’.
[via Copyranter]
Yes, it’s an ad for socks. And it ran in Turkey.
Personally, I prefer my Turks oilier and fuzzier, but TBWA wins points for effective use of scrotal area.
Advertising Agency: TBWA/Istanbul, Turkey
Executive Creative Director: Ilkay Gurpinar
Creative Director: Emre Kaplan
Copywriter: Kerim Gursel
Art Director: Sukran Genc
Photographer: Emre Dogru
Illustrators: Erol Gunes, Erdal Demir
Account Supervisor: Aslı Ceren Aksak
Published: April 2010
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