Southern Plastic Surgery Blog

Forget Underwire! Laser Bra Surgery offers “built in” push up for breasts

Over the years, women have tried everything to make their breasts look more lifted– from push up bras, to insertable pads to cosmetic surgery. However, a new laser technique called “Laser Bra Surgery” uses laser technology to give the breasts more permanent lift and support.

Enrique Iglesias stunned the audience at a concert in Las Vegas by grabbing a fan's camera and taking a saucy picture down his trousers.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIMON REX (YOU'VE NEVER LOOKED BETTER [I'M SERIOUS])

dead flowers (sanitation workers)

Alpha's really onto something below, posting such pop-darkness in the middle of the summer. That track, "Love the Way You Lie," is numero uno right naw (on iTunes at least...). And I think it makes sense that July-to-August sounds like house music of Usher, like suffering plus a beat you can dance to. "The (traditional) Summer Song," the unadulterated fiesta and fluff-fun song of 2010 has been "California Gurls," and, to me (to me), though it hasn't shed any of its "(traditional) Summer Song" merits per say, it's just (was always just) too boring to keep with post-4th (the only thrill of it to me [to me] was that one phrase about "the Golden Coast" and that's sort of a scrap). Perry said in 2009 that this album, Teenage Dream, would be "heavily influenced by Ace of Base" (doy). This makes sense, as 90s revival--middle 90s revival (bright, bold prints)--is on blast and K. Perry has (in this flurry of "California Gurls" and Russel Brand-lover press) pushed it harder than most other famous people. We haven't heard the rest of the record yet (won't till late August---the whole thing's been timed so nicely), but this one single we're working with, the "(traditional) Summer Song" does not put me in mind of Ace of Base at all (it's more like, as mentioned last month, The Spice Girls). Ace of Base songs are/were (sometimes Island-inflected) dance narratives about loneliness, religious rebirth, deceit, CRUEL SUMMERS. They weren't self-consciously frothy and comique in the manner of Perry. Self-serious Gaga has aped them well, (legit Goth) Britney Spears has totes channeled them, as have many many many Europeans (before, during, since). Such a Euro, La Roux, whose single "Bulletproof" may have outpaced "California Gurls" at the clurrrbs this month (I'm just postulating), has put out a total album of summer-darkness jams (which are really ALL-SEASON jams, a link between rotty August and barren February). Here's dos de los-----------

"[Rachel Uchitel]'s also set to take a turn on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew...She's got an addiction to pills...[her] appearance will inevitably be a letdown, as she is clearly barred from discussing the specifics of her relationship with Tiger by some private contract or other. On the flip side, we'll finally get to see what that one eyeball of hers does when it is left up to its own devices on-camera."
---nymag.com somewheres

Love (and hate) In This Club

So what happened, gentle reader, at least 6 month ago, was that this dude I knew was bad for me (god we played back and forth how bad we were for each other), he broke my face. A lot. 3 places, to be precise. Orbital, nasal, and facial. Took some surgery, I lit some candles, I dyed my hair. Whatever. Anyway, I listened to A LOT of Rihanna "Rated R" after the situation (klar, with Chris Brown and whatnot).
That said, I fuuuuucccckkking love Rihanna's new joint with Eminem. I have a lot of issues with Marshall (stemming of course from the late 90s and his homophobia that read like a 5 year old pulling his pants down for attention). But this song, it's seriously everything. Maybe it's my own unconscious wishes for something to throw me back into the arms of my attacker (thanks, Heidi Montag, but I'm not going to), maybe it's RiRi's out of this world voice. Maybe I'm just a girl interrupted, blah blah blah...
My friend Buffy was actually the first to tell me about this song. To quote her "it was--y'know with the subject matter and all-- a bit unexpected for Rihanna... but then again, y'know, you try your best to market on it, too, so...."

I'm loving it. (Part three--Regions, Successful Compositions)

The second season of Jersey Shore will premiere any minute now (next week?). It's passage, from odd, low-budget, themed, Real World-modeled house&party show to straight-up phenomenology, has been a pleasure and a surprise. And that "phenomenology" is both the same and different. Like, it was a "meme" and Twitter accounts and paid party appearances and makeovers in magazines, but also, really REAL and HAPPY. That's the cast. The cast is full of friendship. (Also, they are dancers.)
Critically, I'm not coming from a place of mistrust-of or disrespect-for reality programming. It is the lion's share of what I watch, and as I don't believe there is such a thing as "guilty pleasure," I take its actors and creators v. seriously. I'm used to fame-for-fame's sake. I've written here before about Paris Hilton's genius, por ejemplo. There is something so wholesome and enlightening about her (and Kim Kardashian's) work ethic (pushing those perfume portfolios on at least three Continents). It's nuts to me (to me) that folks still portion out "real celebrities" and "fake celebrities," like movie actors and the movies aren't a big WHATEVER right now (except for Zac Efron, Twilight and cartoons). Anyway, Snookie, Pauly, JWoWW, Mike, Ronnie, Sammy, and Vinny are, among those who make a living appearing as themselves, sort of special. Just especially candid, nervy, but nice.

I have previously (privately, publicly) decried the rise of shamelessness in American (Youth) culture. There is something dangerous in the group-mind habituation of "bad boy and girl behavior," or the obsessive uptake and reuptake of avatars. But perhaps, there are two forms of such: "shamelessness" and "unashamedness." Like, "shamelessness" is hubristic and unstable, over-delusional and sort of line-stepping (disruptive). But "unashamedness" is simply a way of not being burdened by self-doubt, of being brave and transparent and CELEBRATORY. I don't know. Advocating shame doesn't sound quite right to me. Personally, I'm mortified by (the prospect of my own) self-promotion (though I don't lack in self-absorption). And I am beginning to think of it as a personal failure, a kind of parochially educated cross to bear (that drives me offside). Self-promotion and Unashamedness are (here we go) essentially American manners, processes. Americans know how to think themselves blessed, how to be certain about their own rectitude or beauty or anything without much angst, like the 'dumb' and 'ease' mentioned in the last part. The Jersey Shore cast derives their glamour and likability from straightforward, unashamed realness, from confidence in their estilo, their avatars (which are like surface souls? wishes and dreams for the self made semi-material?), their paths to success (their belief in the very fact of success...).
Then the clever duality of/in Jersey Shore is like this: the broadcast of the self, like a product, a brand, an idea is a piece of our New World, our Web and stuff (the patriotic eating of television commercials, celebration of Better Brands), while the regionalism, the extreme, charming specificity of this group of Eastern Seaboarders is a piece of our Old New World.

As a Southerner, I have witnessed the slippage of Regional styles (no one talks quite like people's grandmothers anymore, unfortunately), and felt the need to keep whatever of the old, local stuff I could (if only by remembering how some forebears looked and sounded). To 'keep' The Region feels imperative for us now. We must 'keep' a balance between the Universalized and mega- (which, as I've outlined in the first part, are important and embraceable) and the local, regional, personal, small. America must have everything she wants, both ways---down-home and Global (even, Space-y).
Petrova started the conversation (at home, not en blogsite) some months ago about Jersey Shore's success as a regional program, and about her desire for endless, continual regional programming. Shows about everybody, everywhere, ourselves included--as in, "I wonder what's going on in ____ right now..."--And then I was like, "OH WAIT, that's what Youtube was supposed to be about! Right?"

So, I'm loving this exchange of local and super-Global objects and ideas, like the Coors commercials of the first part: from The stylized Rockies to your market, proud, shining, fast, loving, self-loving, lucky (blessed), happy, just a little careless but somehow steady, unashamed. The ads thrive on a benign tension; they are general and specific at once, contradicting themselves so contradicting themselves.

********************

I hate to indulge her attention-trix-ery, but Lady Gaga persists (demands post and repost).
There's this Japanese television interview I found from last summer.....

The way she looks.
But also, the oblique straining toward an Asian audience (as interpreted by an American private schoolgirl)-------all the talk of piano lessons!!!
There's also this embarrassing 106 & Park appearance from the same season, where all reference points are for black audiences-----I worked with Kanye, Jay-Z, "You all must love Beyonce!"

She is reshuffling her product line for this demographic, then that demographic. And she has been successful, has achieved cross-demographic appeal. But how kinda ugly when you stop and pay attention, set one appearance beside another. It's sheisty, condescending, very suit...not (keeping it) REAL.
Gaga is, like any of us 80s babies, a student of The Brand, The Market, The Branding and Marketing. But I feel like the great branding work is in the universal, the image, the sound (the humanity!) that crosses borders without losing its home-country, its regional identity...not this thin maneuvering and shapeshifting...? Right? Gaga comes by her false and uncomfortable regionalism honestly...Manhattan [as opposed to the other 4 boroughs], her homestead, hasn't been a region for some time---what with the turning out of the lower and middle classes, the strict, to-the-letter Capitalism that has no sympathy for history, no sentiment, that tolerates fakes and users, anybody with cabbage...maybe I just hate the theater, butI thought it was worth mentioning that working on this essay has helped me to understand my ultimate resistance to/with Gaga, whose voice and hooks I like so much (because of their glitzy emotionality), who I find endearing as a worker in the way of aforementioned Paris and Kim. She is an overnight icon of "our New World, our Web and stuff (the patriotic eating of television commercials, celebration of Better Brands)," but she pointedly eschews the other half, the realness, our Old New World. There is all kinds of consternating bluster about growing up in "The Upper West Side Arts and Culture District" (pardon?) and being a "dirty L.E.S. Artiste" (barf and bull-----a Dad-subsidized apt. [not that I have a problem with that] above Max Fish is not the look she meant to look for, or meant for us to see) and how "New York" the middle finger is (lol whatever) and how she has been in straight-up Madonna costume all summer. Her regional identity, and, in turn, her whole identity, is stuffed to the gills with affect, because she came from post-'86 Manhattan, the island of affect, of neighborhoods and ways of life dictated by real estate agents and club promoters, defectors from home (the Middle and South), people who often hate (out loud) their native regional identities. Though of course, until two minutes ago, Gaga--née Stefanie Germanotta--was doing something brilliantly regional. She was a guidette (a total compatriot of the Jersey Shore cast). But self-conscious about it. Because Manhattan, unlike Staten Island or Jersey (where most of that cast is from), is full of that affect that must needs degrade the outer-boroughs and regional identities, The Bridge and Tunnel (with callous inattention to the class repercussions of such narrowness and dismissiveness). The second Miss Germanotta saw the way to shed her (perceived unsophisticated) regional self, to become a costumed non-citizen (a "true" Manhattanite), she did, and HOW. So, I see her and I say, "Where's Stephanie?" And The Brand is incomplete, unfinished. It's not a good commercial.

WAY OUT WEST

HAPPY BASTILLE DAY (RACIST PRICKS)

R.I.P.----

Obit.


But how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume?...

...If you wanted the sky I would write across the sky in letters,
That would soar a thousand feet high,
To Sir, with Love.

¡woop woop!

I'm loving it. (Part two--a note and then,)

In June I wrote myself a note:


EASY
(TRUE)
YES
THANK YOU

too blessed to stress
lol whatever
the secret (catalogue)
realness
regionalism---jersey shore youtube



I have been listening, bit by bit, to an audio-recording of self-help blockbuster (film then book and Oprah-show episode chainlet), The Secret. It isn’t a book on tape really, but a teleplay with ambient sound and endless actors, hosted/drawn out by soupy Aussie (ooof), Rhonda Byrne, its “author”....bank teller, sales executive, social worker.
I play it on my iPod for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time, train rides, generally the evening rush. It's the primer for a Universe-worshiping cult in which one is led to believe that, through The Law of Attraction, The Universe brings our desired objects/states/projections to our doorstep. Like, if we run around imagining that we have already received everything we want (vibrating on the frequency of satisfaction and "receiving"), then we will actually receive everything we want. Successful implementation of The Secret requires multiple simultaneous delusions, then--like, in order to receive wealth (several hundred million dollars?), I must pretend (and believe) I am already wealthy (even as I schlep to and from the Stop&Shop on Flatbush and Tilden, or get a load of my paychecks, recognize that I can't afford such and such on the wine list or super-hot luggage or a race horse or...).
An example given early on has impressed me very much: one is meant to "order" what one desires from the Universe just as one would order items from a catalogue: choosing, calling and placing the order, waiting for items to arrive, all the while certain (casually certain...unthinking and undoubting) that the items will arrive.
All of this really jibes with my olde misappropriation of Adorno---"To be pleased means to say YES"---which was meant as invective about Capitalist piiig softness (because socialists say "NO" to pleasure?), but has come down to me as a mantra for shopping and eating and looking and running around (everything). When keeping with the mantra, I keep my distinctly American (Capitalist) brand of hope and "dumb" (and easy? lazy? blessed?)-----vibrating on the frequency of "receiving." ("All I do is win win win no matter what.")

As per the notes:
(TRUE)
THANK YOU
realness regionalism---jersey shore youtube
Thanksgiving is the final element of Secret-ish reception, a loop of gratefulness aids in reaching "heightened frequencies." One cannot imagine oneself into this sublime state of having and arriving without a kind of sweet-faced, beatific recognition of "blessedness," ones own lack of effort, the wonders of The Universe, what...and, to me (to me), politeness is next to godliness.
The parenthetical "(TRUE)" is tricky, that's why it's in the in-between, in parentheses. I'm still sort of wary of calling a thing "true." It's clearly not forbidden and hideous like calling a thing "pure" (ick---ethnic cleansing, germ phobia). I mean, I called a ring "true" a few months ago, and it sounded right. The ring was "true." Fear of espousing truth lies in the severe secularism of the ART and IDEAS I came up with, or not always the ART and IDEAS so much as their passing interpretation. Lately, I find secularism (or its severest forms) are lifting. Religion is happening again. Artists are lazy mystics, and critics are furious about it, but we're having such a good time. And the continual doubt, the rationalizing and intellectualizing of this and that (while still clearly part of our [my] make-up) is exhausting, to let go of a few pieces, allow some loose ends, mystery, even non-caring (Jesus take the wheel and all that) is such a *pleasure*.
I find that I am outlining a kind of American view---"I'm loving it." YES THANKS ME YOU THIS HAS ALL BEEN SO BRIGHT AND EASY---around and about things and luck. This is like the self-created, self-concerning version of Brand celebration, rah-rah and commodified convenience and commercials; advertisement is (rarely now, because, as an industry, its overrun with cardboard putzes) a poetics of the American view.
..."Realness" and regionalism are at the heart of my interest in those Coors commercials of the last part (and Jersey Shore and Youtube), but that seems like the meat of the next part to me.....so, till then (probs tomorrow) xoxo...

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HOPES FOR POST-COLONIAL CHAMP ARE DASHED----SO, SPAIN!

"Dearly beloved
We are gathered here today
2 get through this thing called life

Electric word life
It means forever and that's a mighty long time
But I'm here 2 tell u
There's something else
The afterworld

A world of never ending happiness
U can always see the sun, day or night

So when u call up that shrink in Beverly Hills
U know the one - Dr Everything'll Be Alright
Instead of asking him how much of your time is left
Ask him how much of your mind, baby

'Cuz in this life
Things are much harder than in the afterworld
In this life
You're on your own

And if de-elevator tries 2 bring u down
Go crazy - punch a higher floor

If u don't like the world you're living in
Take a look around u
At least u got friends

U see I called my old lady
4 a friendly word
She picked up the phone
Dropped it on the floor
(Sex, sex) is all I heard

Are we gonna let de-elevator
Bring us down
Oh, no Let's Go!

Let's go crazy
Let's get nuts
Let's look 4 the purple banana
'Til they put us in the truck, let's go!

We're all excited
But we don't know why
Maybe it's cuz
We're all gonna die

And when we do (When we do)
What's it all 4 (What's it all 4)
U better live now
Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door

Tell me, are we gonna let de-elevator bring us down
Oh, no let's go!

Let's go crazy
Let's get nuts
Look 4 the purple banana
'Til they put us in the truck, let's go!

C'mon baby
Let's get nuts
Yeah
Crazy

Let's go crazy

Are we gonna let de-elevator bring us down
Oh, no let's go!
Go crazy

I said let's go crazy (Go crazy)
Let's go, let's go
Go
Let's go

Dr. Everything'll be alright
Will make everything go wrong
Pills and thrills and dafodills will kill
Hang tough children

He's coming
He's coming
Coming

Take me away!
I can't disguise the pounding of my heart
It beats so strong
It's in your eyes what can I say
They turn me on

I don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with u

Come on and touch the place in me
That's calling out your name
We want each other oh so much
Why must we play this game?

Don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with u

I don't care if we spend the night at your mansion
I don't care if we spend the night on the town
All I want is 2 spend the night together
All I want is 2 spend the night in your arms

To be around u is so-oh right
You're sheer perfection (thank u)
Drive me crazy, drive me all night
Just don't break up the connection

I don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with u

I don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with u

Just take me with u
Oh won't u take me with u
Honey take me with uBaby, baby, baby
What's it gonna be
Baby, baby, baby
Is it him or is it me?
Don't make me waste my time
Don't make me lose my mind baby

Baby, baby, baby
Can't u stay with me tonight
Oh baby, baby, baby
Don't my kisses please u right
U were so hard 2 find
The beautiful ones, they hurt u everytime

Paint a perfect picture
Bring 2 life a vision in one's mind
The beautiful ones
Always smash the picture
Always everytime

If I told u baby
That I was in love with u
Oh baby, baby, baby
If we got married
Would that be cool?

U make me so confused
The beautiful ones
U always seem 2 lose

Baby, baby,
Baby, baby,
Baby, baby,
Baby,
What's it gonna be baby?

Do u want him?
Or do u want me?
Cause I want u
Said I want u
Tell me, babe
Do u want me?
I gotta know, I gotta know
Do u want me?
Baby, baby, baby
Listen 2 me
I may not know where I'm going (babe)
I said I may not know what I need
One thing, one thing's 4 certain baby
I know what I want, yeah
and if it please u baby
please u, baby
I'm begging down on my knees
I want u
Yes I do
Baby, baby, baby, baby
I want you

Yes I doWendy?
Yes Lisa
Is the water warm enough?
Yes Lisa
Shall we begin?
Yes Lisa

Where is my love life?
Where can it be?
There must be something wrong with the machinery

Where is my love life?
Tell me, tell me
Where has it gone?
Somebody please please tell me what the hell is wrong

Until I find the righteous 1
Computer blue
Until I find the righteous 1
Computer blue
knew a girl named Nikki
I guess u could say she was a sex fiend
I met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine
She said how'd u like 2 waste some time
And I could not resist when I saw little Nikki grind

She took me 2 her castle
And I just couldn't believe my eyes
She had so many devices
Everything that money could buy
She said sign your name on the dotted line
The lights went out
And Nikki started 2 grind

Nikki

The castle started spinning
Or maybe it was my brain
I can't tell u what she did 2 me
But my body will never be the same
Her lovin' will kick your behind
Oh, she'll show u no mercy
But she'll sho'nuff sho'nuff show u how 2 grind

Darling Nikki

Woke up the next morning
Nikki wasn't there
I looked all over and all I found
Was a phone unmber on the stairs
It said thank u 4 a funky time
Call me up whenever u want 2 grind

Oh, Nikki, ohhhh

come back Nikki, come back
Your dirty little Prince
wanna grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind

{backwards at the end...}
"Hello, how r u? I'm fine
'cause I know that the Lord is coming soon, coming, coming soon"
Dig if u will the picture
Of u and I engaged in a kiss
The sweat of your body covers me
Can u my darling
Can u picture this?

Dream if u can a courtyard
An ocean of violets in bloom
Animals strike curious poses
They feel the heat
The heat between me and u

How can u just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold)
Maybe I'm just 2 demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father 2 bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry

Touch if u will my stomach
Feel how it trembles inside
You've got the butterflies all tied up
Don't make me chase u
Even doves have pride

How can u just leave me standing?
Alone in a world so cold? (World so cold)
Maybe I'm just 2 demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father 2 bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry

How can u just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold? (A world that's so cold)
Maybe I'm just 2 demanding (Maybe, maybe I'm like my father)
Maybe I'm just like my father 2 bold (Ya know he's 2 bold)
Maybe you're just like my mother (Maybe you're just like my mother)
She's never satisfied (She's never, never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other (Why do we scream, why)
This is what it sounds like

When doves cry
When doves cry (Doves cry, doves cry)
When doves cry (Doves cry, doves cry)

Don't Cry (Don't Cry)

When doves cry
When doves cry
When doves cry

When Doves cry (Doves cry, doves cry, doves cry
Don't cry
Darling don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't don't cryI'm not a woman
I'm not a man
I am something that you'll never understand

I'll never beat u
I'll never lie
And if you're evil I'll forgive u by and by

U - I would die 4 u, yeah
Darling if u want me 2
U - I would die 4 u

I'm not your lover
I'm not your friend
I am something that you'll never comprehend

No need 2 worry
No need 2 cry
I'm your messiah and you're the reason why

'Cuz U - I would die 4 u, yeah
Darling if u want me 2
U - I would die 4 u
You're just a sinner I am told
Be your fire when you're cold
Make u happy when you're sad
Make u good when u are bad

I'm not a human
I am a dove
I'm your conscious
I am love
All I really need is 2 know that
U believe

Yeah, I would die 4 u, yeah
Darling if u want me 2
U - I would die 4 u

Yeah, say one more time

U - I would die 4 u
Darling if u want me 2
U - I would die 4 u
2 3 4 U

I would die 4 u
I would die 4 u
U - I would die 4 u
U - I would die 4 u
1,2,3,4
Hey, look me over
Tell me do u like what u see?
Hey, I ain't got no money
But honey I'm rich on personality
Hey, check it all out
Baby I know what it's all about
Before the night is through
U will see my point of view
Even if I have 2 scream and shout

Baby I'm a (star)
Might not know it now
Baby but I r, I'm a (star)
I don't want to stop, 'til I reach the top
Sing it (We are all a star!)

Hey, take a listen
Tell me do u like what u hear?
If it don't turn u on
Just say the word and I'm gone
But honey I know, ain't nothing
Wrong with your ears
Hey, check it all out
Better look now or it just might be 2 late (just might be 2 late)
My lucks gonna change tonight
There's gotta be a better life
Take a picture sweetie
I ain't got time 2 waste

Oh baby I'm a (star)
Might not know it now
Baby but I r, I'm a (star)
I don't want to stop, 'til I reach the top
Sing it! (We are all a star!)

Everybody say, nothing come 2 easy
But when u got it baby, nothing come 2 hard
You'll see what I'm all about (see what I'm all about)
If I gotta scream and shout (if I gotta scream and shout)
Baby baby (baby) baby (baby) baby (baby)
yeah
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah (star)

Might not know it now
Baby but I r, I'm a (star)
I don't want to stop, 'til I reach the top
Sing it! (star)

Baby baby baby
oh baby I'm a (star)
baby baby baby
somebody
(We are all a star)

(Baby I'm a star)
We are all a star

We are all a star

Doctor!
Baby, baby, baby, baby,
baby, baby, baby, baby
We are all a star

{Backwards talking in the background}
"Like what the fuck do they know
All their taste is in their mouth
Really. What the fuck do they know?
Come on baby. Let's go... crazy"
I never meant 2 cause u any sorrow
I never meant 2 cause u any pain
I only wanted 2 one time see u laughing
I only wanted 2 see u laughing in the purple rain

Purple rain Purple rain
Purple rain Purple rain
Purple rain Purple rain

I only wanted 2 see u bathing in the purple rain

I never wanted 2 be your weekend lover
I only wanted 2 be some kind of friend
Baby I could never steal u from another
It's such a shame our friendship had 2 end

Purple rain Purple rain
Purple rain Purple rain
Purple rain Purple rain

I only wanted 2 see u underneath the purple rain

Honey I know, I know, I know times are changing
It's time we all reach out 4 something new
That means u 2
U say u want a leader
But u can't seem 2 make up your mind
I think u better close it
And let me guide u 2 the purple rain

Purple rain Purple rain
Purple rain Purple rain

If you know what I'm singing about up here
C'mon raise your hand

Purple rain Purple rain

I only want 2 see u, only want 2 see u
In the purple rain"

"I GUESS YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE ON YOUR FITNESS."

roush

¡WE'RE WITH URUGUAY!

Last week, I planned to do it big about America with two more parts of the essay, "I'm loving it," posted in time for Independence Day. And I do intend to finish up that work with an eye toward regionalism and "realness," but more like this week and maybe the next, because "doing it big about America" this July 4th long weekend involved visits and actions and inactions and television (not writing)-----
---I tanned (which is a really big deal).
---I stared at my manicure (red, white and blue) and pedicure (gold and copper glitter) submerged in the pool, and then held up against the sky and sun, the white clapboard garage, the lawn and flower beds, the deck...
---I drove (finally!).
---I (Pillow and I) went to Walmart. I bought a pink t-shirt (elongated baby-tee?) that says, "YOU'RE AS FAKE AS YOUR TAN" in blue and gold block letters (as Petrova predicted in 2009, tanning is very important right now, and I've always loved that sub-genre of teen tops that accuse people of things in a general broadcast sorta way). I bought a pair of NASCAR pajama pants that are covered with Jimmie Johnson's signature and the Lowe's Hardware logo. I bought a NASCAR t-shirt that features the Crown Royal car, riffs on the Crown Royal logo, driver Matt Kenseth's signature. I bought a NASCAR Racing hat, comme ça. It's incredible (totes pertinent to that first part of "I'm loving it") how naked the promotion is on official and non-official NASCAR gear and of course the cars. NASCAR is the height/peak/best of sponsorship, American business celebration. I also bought a pair of men's half-jacket wrap around sunglasses, like baseball sunglasses, with the oil slick blue and yellow and purple polarized lenses, and then a friendship bracelet and some razors, striped composition notebooks...
---I ate (sat down inside and ate) at one of the last last-generation Taco Bells, the kind that still has the green, faded red and brown stripe around the exterior.
---I went to see Twilight: Eclipse. And oh my goodness how fantastic! Taylor Lautner tour-de-force---the dynamism of jean shorts and a deep tan set against snow-capped mountains! Kristen Stewart looks phenomenal in no-make-up and trucks and forests. All of those forest scenes with vampires appeared to be filmed in some super-complex greyscale. Paleness, Darkness. Cold, Hot. Twilight is all about skin and cars and living and dying. High School stories, y'all (are the best)!
---A friend once asked me offhand if I wanted to do a top ten list for artforum.com----I'm not sure she was serious. But I then asked if it had to be about a-r-t, like art shows (because I don't want to go to Chelsea). And she said yeah, so it was dropped, because I can't write that top ten list. I could, however, offer a top ten list of best art on television or the Internet or restaurants or shops and stuff. In that vein, the 2010 Macy's Fourth of July fireworks would take a sure spot on a year's comprehensive list. My mouth was literally agape throughout. I also gasped, clutched my breast and said "OMG" several times. That BIGGEST cruise ship ever made, Epic, made an appearance along with Justin Bieber and Nick Cannon and Sammy from Days of Our Lives! The computer-driven bursts faded slowly, often in time with the music, canned versions of "Yankee Doodle Dandy," Sousa marches. The effect was totally UNREAL. Strange, massive and fleeting jellyfish and jewels, projected creations of planets and moons. The whole show was imbued with this delicious sensation of FIRST PLACE, BIGGEST, BEST, BLESSED. Yes!

------I got to thinking (is that a Bradshaw-ism?), over the weekend, how FIRST PLACE was the American Revolution? Was it the very first of its kind? Can you think of any other colony going post-colonial in that sort of singular, self determined way at any point in history prior to 1776? I imagine there must have been some distant (or unknown to our Fathers) precedent, but I can't think of one....perhaps we can say with certainty that it was the first post-colonial revolution so followed by equally revolutionary government-building? Also, Pillow asked the best question, "Can you believe [the Founding Fathers] had no idea what California looked like?"---OMG!