JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

I coveted this bottlecap ring by Martin Margiela,

so while we were having drinks at Noel’s flat James made me this ring out of the wire thingy in the champagne cork.

It’s me.

James Reyes should open a shop where we can bring him assorted junk and he can turn them into wearable items.

Photo: The Extreme Ultraviolet Sun from NASA’s Astronomy Picture of the Day Archive.

This is the secret of Ian McEwan’s success: He’s playing us. In his novels he manipulates us into thinking we know what’s going on, only to turn on the lights and reveal something else. Using techniques out of horror stories and thrillers he tweaks our nerves until the tension becomes unbearable—try putting that book down then. He withholds vital information only to spring it on us at the very last minute—unforgivable in other authors, but in McEwan another demonstration of his narrative skills.

These manipulations are executed in prose so gorgeous it makes you weep. When all is revealed, your reaction should be “How dare you”, but what comes out is “Wow.” Thank you for fooling us. Consider his finest work, Atonement, whose last page reveals a secret that turns the world upside down. Can he do that, is that kosher? And you may protest at this deceit, but you know you wanted it. These lovely people who have been through so much—you wanted them to be happy. You agreed to be played.

Review of Solar in Emotional Weather Report, today in the Star.

Then we can move on to the next Challenge because this one is exhausting.

Yesterday I took the day off from reading the entries. To reward myself for not running amok I got another pair of vintage eyeglasses. I’ll need them after perusing the next bunch of cliches. Do read over your draft before posting it. Be kind to me. If you can’t be kind to me, be kind to yourselves. I’ve been in a good mood lately, but we don’t know how long it’ll last.

Nerdy Old Writer Glasses

I’m still plotting to take this away from Carlo: vintage Matsuda eyeglasses.

Check out Lady Gagita’s homemade hats, they’re insane.

Telephone, the official music video parody by Lady Gagita feat. Haronce. Impressive editing.

The idea of using dance music to tell the story of Imelda Marcos is both loony and a stroke of genius. This is what David Byrne and Fatboy Slim have done in Here Lies Love, a 22-song cycle about the former First Lady of this country and Estrella Cumpas, the woman who raised her.

Imelda Marcos was always destined to be the subject of a musical; the question was, What kind? She loved—loves—to sing; part of Imelda lore is that Irving Berlin himself rewrote some lyrics for her to sing to General Douglas MacArthur after his famous return. No important event can transpire in the Philippines without a soundtrack: where else do the concepts “Revolution” and “Tony Orlando and Dawn” appear in the same sentence? During the martial law years there was a persistent rumor that the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical “Evita” could not be staged in Manila, as it would bring up uncomfortable parallels. Anti-Marcos protesters would sing “Don’t Cry for Me. . .Argentina”…

Dancing on the Grave of History, in Emotional Weather Report, today in the Star.

A grand Catalan celebration awaits bibliophiles, culture lovers, and the curious this April 24 as Instituto Cervantes brings back Día Internacional del Libro (International Book Day).

This news release is from the Instituto Cervantes; please address your inquiries to them.