The Week in Photos

I didn't go to Sonar, Barcelona's annual electronic music festival, this weekend. But judging by the teachers that called in sick this morning (yup) or staggered into the office, semi-coherent, clutching beer-soaked euros (really!) it was a great party.
The weekend saw Greece, like a battered spouse still unwilling to leave its abuser, reluctantly agree to keep the Euro and all the pain and suffering that entails. The markets reacted by mostly ignoring it, with the currency gaining nothing in value and Spain still being punished for what is already being called a failed bailout. (The check isn't even in the mail yet and already nobody thinks it was a good idea.)

Sant Joan, the annual let's-blow-shit-up holiday is around the corner, so firecracker stands are appearing throughout the city. Given the current economic and political climate, it might be time to stock up on explosives.
Humor can be found in anything. Racism, the Holocaust and rape, for example, are horrific things, but I am sure there are some good jokes based on all of them. I don't know any, and will not even try to come up with examples. As the Jerry Sandusky trial continues, the Yahoo comment section, one of the most depressing reads in the world, is full of terrible attempts at laughing at child abuse. The average Yahoo commenter can probably not even count as high as their stunted IQ, so you can imagine the cringe-inducing attempts at hilarity that litter the boards. But sometimes, the universe does the work for you:

This was an actual flyer I saw stuck to a wall.
Translation: I need children and babies from 0 to 10 years old. TV, Film, Fashion, Internet. The internet is the highway. Photo DVD session. A unique project in Europe. Commercial actors, extras and models. Call for free.
Clear a cell in space jail. We're gonna need it.
Finally:

Melancholia

Did you see the movie Melancholia? It's great. Probably my favorite film from last year. (But last year saw the release of Green Lantern! - you. I know, but the heart wants what the heart wants.) It has a really interesting and accurate depiction of depression. Kirstin Dunst is a depressed bride who wanders around her wedding, disappearing at will, quitting her job, fucking a guest and finally ditching her brand new husband. It's very real in the way it shows that depression is a serious condition for the sufferer who is not in control of her actions which she can't explain let alone understand, but it's also a giant pain in the ass for everybody else who lives in a world where rules govern behavior and breaking those rules has consequences. Very good. Very real. (Less real is the idea the ultra handsome charming Alexander Skarsgard would settle for depressive Kirstin Dunst, but at least she's not a buck-toothed psychic bobble-head. Skarsgard is making a career out of onscreen couplings way below his league. Just saying.) The second half of the movie deals with -spoiler alert - a giant planet smashing into Earth and totally destroying it. After the depression wedding, the end of all life as we know it is actually the less harrowing part of the film. Anyway, before -spoiler alert - the giant planet smashes into Earth and totally destroys it, it just floats by and everyone (Kiefer Sutherland is everyone) watches it and is super impressed and says "Wow, that was cool. I told you not to worry." Then the planet does a loop and ends up -spoiler alert - smashing into Earth and destroying it anyway. (This is a great review. I know. I should write for the Hollywood Reporter. Just send my contract to awesomereviewer@salientgreen.awesome) My point (yes, Virginia, there is a point!) is that right now I feel like maybe we are at that point after the giant planet has flown by but before -spoiler alert - it smashes into Earth and destroys everything. Spain got it's bailout this weekend. Yay! 100 billion euros (that's a real number) for incompetent and corrupt bankers to fix their incompetent and corrupt banks. A round of drinks for everybody! (But only Don Simon brand wine in a box. We're on austerity here.) The markets, ever wise, always reliable, have rallied at the news that 100 billion euros (again, that's a real number!) was thrown at incompetence and corruption to make it better. Hopefully you can make some of your Facebook money back. Greek elections next weekend. Happy fake ending, everybody!

Kickin' in the Front Seat

Hey everybody, it's Friday! How was your week? Mine was uneventful. Maybe you thought that lightness of this week's blog output was due to a busy schedule so marvelous that it didn't leave me time to humblebrag about it here. Sadly, this is not the case. No festivals or tours to report on. No outrages to bitch about except the usual ones. The usual ones do involve daily news about the country falling apart, the latest being that Spain is officially going to ask Europe for a bailout. Yay! Now we can join the likes of Greece and Ireland as third world nations of white people. It's strange, cuz to the naked eye, nothing seems different. Despite staggering unemployment, crashing consumption and a currency that may not make it through the summer, there is no palpable sense of doom or dread. The terraces are still full, and nothing is burning yet. (The occasional protest met with wild overreaction by the authorities does pop up, but really, that's nothing new. If you put six Catalans together anywhere, someone's going to be carrying a sign decrying something. That's the nature of the beast.) I guess it's because nobody really knows what's going to happen or what it will mean. It's probably going to be bad, but this is a country where people still have memories of a brutal civil war and an oppressive dictatorship. Add to that the fact that Catalonia defines itself in part by its historic victimhood, and you get a pissed-off wait-and-see attitude. Also, there's this to distract us:

Ok, maybe one small humblebrag

Happy weekend everybody.