My fav is the pic of the defendants and your grandfather. But if course a Nazi wouldn't include that as a choice.
I would hang the slave market picture in my house, as a reminder of what we never can allow again. To not hang it is to erase history. It also is a great conversation starter and a prompt to delve more into learning about a dark time.
Many years ago I purchased a G. Harvey print titled "Decisions at Dawn." It is a painting of the Confederate Army planning their strategy in the predawn hours with the blurry image of the Confed flag in the background. When I walked into a Charleston art store and saw it, it took my breath away. The artist had so clearly captured the defeat of the army in the painting. It is a reminder of what was, the reality of war, and again, what can never be allowed to happen again.
How...um...eclectic. It would appear "The Old Curiosity Shop" has nothing on Schloss Manteuffel-Weingarten. Why do I have this image of you roaming the neighborhood with a pushcart crying, "Bring out your crap!" As it happens, I likely saw the "Raptor" also known as Rachel, in the play "Enron" in a small theater in DC, what something like five or six years ago? Unless she had an understudy. I recall as well it probably had more performances in DC than it did on Broadway.
Correct. You probably saw it at Dance Loft on 14th Street. Rachel had several roles: Raptor, prostitute and stock analyst who had to explain how she fucked up.
Why was the penis and boobs table not an option in the poll!? Just because it doesn’t actually live in Gene’s house doesn’t mean it shouldn’t have been an option.
Once you see the man pooping in the stained glass, you cannot unsee it. I’m amazed Rachel sat on that opinion for however long she quietly sat on it. If it had been my opinion, I would have told you the second I saw it. Doesn’t at all diminish the charm of the stained glass. I quite like it more now.
Thank you, Sasquatch and Gene. And Rachel, of course. I have always referred to my bras as miracles of modern engineering. I remember the pencil test well; "perky" was the goal as I remember it, not womanhood. If the pencil dropped, you were sufficiently perky, and if it stayed in place, you were already sagging. But I am much older than Rachel, so I suppose the test evolved over time.
At this point in my life, I've graduated from an F to a G, and need to buy European bras. Apparently European women have much larger breasts than Americans and are proud enough of them to continue with the alphabet. Those who have availed themselves of a plastic surgeon's skill undoubtedly have found their favorite boutique bra store, and have no problem paying the equivalent of a small car for a bra that fits.
I would display the slave market photo, and below it a stylized piece saying “Never again,” perhaps superimposed over a Holocaust picture. Slavery and the Holocaust are two sides of the same coin.
I am particularly enamored of the quote with the bottles, "Who is the Czar and why does he hate me?" Didn't we all ask that question? That is lives with the Czar, I love that. I once asked Style writer Roxanne Roberts, after the Czar had retired/been defenestrated by the Empress, if she could confirm the Czar's identity. She declined to do so. Deep Throat part deux.
Here are some of my wall ornaments. Would you let me know if you desire pictures of any of them? anna.p.magistra@gmail.com
My late husband's certificate of membership in the Ancient Society of College Youths, which depicts at the top a noble female figure resting on a bell; a richly hand-decorated document in grand illuminated manuscript style, granting me and my husband perpetual membership in the Washington Ringing Society; (on the bathroom wall) an original Bob Staake cartoon of my entry reinterpreting "Paper Moon" as a contest to produce Xerox copies of one's posterior; a Ronald Searle cat with a penetrating gaze; a framed picture of my father's plaque in the Cryptological Hall of Fame; the newspaper cutting of Ryan Zimmermann jumping for joy after the Nats won the World Series ...
I'm maybe too analytical here, but if a Nazi were compelling me and gave me that list, I would have to pick the one I thought would be the last one the Nazi would pick. And I certainly wouldn't pick my fave, because seeing it day in and out would just remind me of said compulsion, and I'd grow to resent a piece I had liked. Or if the slave market pic were a choice, that would be best in context.
The news photo reminded me of a pic from the Washington Star of my mom dressed in an antebellum gown. She was an assistant bookkeeper at a D.C. furniture store when GWTW came out, and she was designated as the Scarlet for the antebellum living room display the store had put together. My mom wasn't crazy about the whole idea, but she said she was the only young, dark-haired white woman working there, so there it was. I might still have the pic downstairs.
So found this. https://www.postguam.com/entertainment/lifestyle/a-taxing-dilemma/article_a1b97dcc-bc06-11e6-a7b9-f7b578491413.html I also found your grandfather's obituary. I forgot back in the day they didn't list women by their first names, only by Mrs. husband's first and last name. How humiliating, we may think today--the obituary doesn't even give the given name of the deceased's daughters. Gives the deceased's wife's name, but neither daughter. That seems so shocking to me.
Surviving are his widow, the former Bessie Goldenburg; two daughters, Mrs. Philip Weingarten and Mrs. Irving S. Stein, and four grandchildren. Time capsule for you.
A few years ago, my daughter and I were doing an artwalk, but without any real plan to buy anything, and after an hour of going gallery to gallery, we were mostly just scoping out free wine and leaving. We walked through an open door to a well-lit room with gentle music piped in and froze: Instead of a gallery, we were in a shelter, and the art displayed looked very much like the cursory efforts of people who were complying with someone else's agenda. We asked about the artists and the answer went somewhat in the direction of confirming that suspicion.
We saw one piece that summed up the whole vibe, which I bought for $10 more than the $10 asking price. I recently noticed that my husband, himself an artist, had framed it for me and tucked it into my office. It is this: https://substack.com/home/post/p-156420211
My fav is the pic of the defendants and your grandfather. But if course a Nazi wouldn't include that as a choice.
I would hang the slave market picture in my house, as a reminder of what we never can allow again. To not hang it is to erase history. It also is a great conversation starter and a prompt to delve more into learning about a dark time.
Many years ago I purchased a G. Harvey print titled "Decisions at Dawn." It is a painting of the Confederate Army planning their strategy in the predawn hours with the blurry image of the Confed flag in the background. When I walked into a Charleston art store and saw it, it took my breath away. The artist had so clearly captured the defeat of the army in the painting. It is a reminder of what was, the reality of war, and again, what can never be allowed to happen again.
Decisions at Dawn is chilling. Almost literally.
How...um...eclectic. It would appear "The Old Curiosity Shop" has nothing on Schloss Manteuffel-Weingarten. Why do I have this image of you roaming the neighborhood with a pushcart crying, "Bring out your crap!" As it happens, I likely saw the "Raptor" also known as Rachel, in the play "Enron" in a small theater in DC, what something like five or six years ago? Unless she had an understudy. I recall as well it probably had more performances in DC than it did on Broadway.
Correct. You probably saw it at Dance Loft on 14th Street. Rachel had several roles: Raptor, prostitute and stock analyst who had to explain how she fucked up.
I would be honored to display the Barnaby picture.
That was my first choice as well, but you can’t count on a Nazi to give you the best choices!
Why was the penis and boobs table not an option in the poll!? Just because it doesn’t actually live in Gene’s house doesn’t mean it shouldn’t have been an option.
Once you see the man pooping in the stained glass, you cannot unsee it. I’m amazed Rachel sat on that opinion for however long she quietly sat on it. If it had been my opinion, I would have told you the second I saw it. Doesn’t at all diminish the charm of the stained glass. I quite like it more now.
I see a parrot hawking a loogie.
I would love to read Rachel's story about her bosom, but alas, I refuse to resubscribe to WaPo to do so.
Here ya go.
https://wapo.st/4gocjjG
Ha. Was going to do the same thing! https://wapo.st/4gocjjG
It was the least I could do.
You still have to create an account and be bombarded with "better" and "better" offers to get a worse and worse newspaper.
Thank you, Sasquatch and Gene. And Rachel, of course. I have always referred to my bras as miracles of modern engineering. I remember the pencil test well; "perky" was the goal as I remember it, not womanhood. If the pencil dropped, you were sufficiently perky, and if it stayed in place, you were already sagging. But I am much older than Rachel, so I suppose the test evolved over time.
At this point in my life, I've graduated from an F to a G, and need to buy European bras. Apparently European women have much larger breasts than Americans and are proud enough of them to continue with the alphabet. Those who have availed themselves of a plastic surgeon's skill undoubtedly have found their favorite boutique bra store, and have no problem paying the equivalent of a small car for a bra that fits.
Does anyone remember the riddle with the answer: "That would be a Z Bra."
I would display the slave market photo, and below it a stylized piece saying “Never again,” perhaps superimposed over a Holocaust picture. Slavery and the Holocaust are two sides of the same coin.
I am particularly enamored of the quote with the bottles, "Who is the Czar and why does he hate me?" Didn't we all ask that question? That is lives with the Czar, I love that. I once asked Style writer Roxanne Roberts, after the Czar had retired/been defenestrated by the Empress, if she could confirm the Czar's identity. She declined to do so. Deep Throat part deux.
Others have asked. There is a fabulous story behind it. I will explain in the next GP.
Excellent!
I see that the NYT is advertising itself on Instagram as "Reporting without Fear or Favor." Wonder what prompted that slogan?
To me, the stained glass in the window looks like a fancy martini glass.
Gene, I've heard that Catherine the Great had a romantic encounter with Hermann Goering on top of your table.
Here are some of my wall ornaments. Would you let me know if you desire pictures of any of them? anna.p.magistra@gmail.com
My late husband's certificate of membership in the Ancient Society of College Youths, which depicts at the top a noble female figure resting on a bell; a richly hand-decorated document in grand illuminated manuscript style, granting me and my husband perpetual membership in the Washington Ringing Society; (on the bathroom wall) an original Bob Staake cartoon of my entry reinterpreting "Paper Moon" as a contest to produce Xerox copies of one's posterior; a Ronald Searle cat with a penetrating gaze; a framed picture of my father's plaque in the Cryptological Hall of Fame; the newspaper cutting of Ryan Zimmermann jumping for joy after the Nats won the World Series ...
I'm maybe too analytical here, but if a Nazi were compelling me and gave me that list, I would have to pick the one I thought would be the last one the Nazi would pick. And I certainly wouldn't pick my fave, because seeing it day in and out would just remind me of said compulsion, and I'd grow to resent a piece I had liked. Or if the slave market pic were a choice, that would be best in context.
The news photo reminded me of a pic from the Washington Star of my mom dressed in an antebellum gown. She was an assistant bookkeeper at a D.C. furniture store when GWTW came out, and she was designated as the Scarlet for the antebellum living room display the store had put together. My mom wasn't crazy about the whole idea, but she said she was the only young, dark-haired white woman working there, so there it was. I might still have the pic downstairs.
No Ramirez cartoon? What the actual eff?
The perfect place would be under the man pooping.
So found this. https://www.postguam.com/entertainment/lifestyle/a-taxing-dilemma/article_a1b97dcc-bc06-11e6-a7b9-f7b578491413.html I also found your grandfather's obituary. I forgot back in the day they didn't list women by their first names, only by Mrs. husband's first and last name. How humiliating, we may think today--the obituary doesn't even give the given name of the deceased's daughters. Gives the deceased's wife's name, but neither daughter. That seems so shocking to me.
Surviving are his widow, the former Bessie Goldenburg; two daughters, Mrs. Philip Weingarten and Mrs. Irving S. Stein, and four grandchildren. Time capsule for you.
A few years ago, my daughter and I were doing an artwalk, but without any real plan to buy anything, and after an hour of going gallery to gallery, we were mostly just scoping out free wine and leaving. We walked through an open door to a well-lit room with gentle music piped in and froze: Instead of a gallery, we were in a shelter, and the art displayed looked very much like the cursory efforts of people who were complying with someone else's agenda. We asked about the artists and the answer went somewhat in the direction of confirming that suspicion.
We saw one piece that summed up the whole vibe, which I bought for $10 more than the $10 asking price. I recently noticed that my husband, himself an artist, had framed it for me and tucked it into my office. It is this: https://substack.com/home/post/p-156420211