Letters of Note gathers communications significant in history or culture.  It’s a sort of mesmerizing blog, as one gets drawn in to letters like Einstein’s plea not to use the bomb, Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s filthy South Park memo written to movie executives, the encoded Zimmerman telegram, and Charles Schulz’s angry response to a child’s letter, complete with a drawing of an axe to one of the character’s heads.

There are many more varied and fascinating inclusions.  Its worth your time to check it out.

Last night, The Black Cat hosted Blind Pilot.  They were amazing; I was overwhelmed.

If you’ve yet to jump on this wagon, ask me to burn you a cd or head over to iTunes.  I suggest starting with “One Red Thread” and “Three Rounds and a Sound.”

Looking for a way to celebrate this Veterans’ Day?  How about by learning more about them and investing more in them.

The Denver Post followed Ian Fisher for 27 months, through Army recruitment, training, deployment, two tours in Iraq, a return from combat, and a marriage.  Ian is a soldier, Ian is a kid.

One of my favorite ideas in Jewish faith is “wrestling with God.”  Questions are allowed here, especially this one: why?

Our hero - a mathematician busy teaching college students about Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle while suffering a sort of mid-life crisis -just wants the answers.  But with all the signs, tokens, and rabbinical parables, comes only a nagging truth: maybe, sometimes maybe, things just…happen.  A string of good luck, a string of bad luck; sometimes things just happen all at once.

Come awards season, I hope to see Michael Stuhlbarg rewarded for his turn as a serious man with real questions about the methods…and the madness.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had the stifling expectations of the feminine world so brilliantly explained to me, unless it was from Kate Chopin.

While I could have used more of Sylvia Plath’s cleverly turned metaphors and obvious adoration of words, I admired the illustrations of wifedom and motherhood and “female-ness” that she used to make as clear as a tuning fork the pain one feels when one’s vision of life doesn’t match up to the world’s reality.  There is a lot of pain in the question, “Does this otherness last forever?”

What: Stains
Where: “It’s Me Or The Dog”
Commentary: I’ve never seen anything like this.  I can’t stop watching, I can’t stop wondering, I can’t stop laughing.

This is Kerouac for sure.

Big Sur comes with all the preening and self-justifications of On The Road, but is made more sad by a very much older Jack Kerouac, on the run from fame and age and responsibility.

Still, that sadness makes the author more accessible than ever.  While the book may be missing the “blue centerlight pop” of his earlier, freer days, one still can’t help but cheer him on.  He’s pure and honest, even when he’s annoying; he’s warm and beautiful, even in the break down.

Why did no one share this movie before?

Tarantino, whom I’ve always loved, suddenly makes sense.  Raising art from rote, hackneyed styles suddenly makes sense.  Speaking with cinematography and panning cameras suddenly makes sense, as do soundtracks and standoffs and sight gags and subplots that last only scenes.

There are two kinds of directors in this world: directors who paid attention to this film, and directors who didn’t.

This Arkansas State Parks Flickr site convinces me that I’d be homesick in heaven.

The Yankees won it all in 1923, the first year in old Yankee Stadium.  They did it again today, 2009, the first year in new Yankee Stadium.

It was great to see two of the “core four” work from the mound tonight - Pettitte got the win as the starter; Rivera got the save as only he can.  Jeter had a great night and Posada did his thing behind the plate.

But tonight’s real hero was Hideki Matsui, facing free agency.  He went 3-4 (HR, 2B, 1B) with SIX RBIs in a 7-3 win.

Godzilla for MVP; I’m going out to overturn some cars!

Weekly Progressive Views from Adam.

Stories like this make me smile. It manifests a position I’ve tried to express (yet failed to achieve) for years.  It reminds me of this scene in Fight Club.

At some point, we, as a society, will find a renewed appreciation of craftsmanship.  At some point, we’ll realize that the buildings we build, the cars we drive, and the communities we live in must be designed not only for today, but for tomorrow and 100 years from now.  Let’s kill notions of planned obsolescence and spend-now, pay tomorrow; let’s promote community planning through patience, tolerance and foresight.  You’re not your effing pants.