Disturbingly enough, this is from a series.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
New Pages
So I actually got a job, which I wasn't expecting so much. I am a full-time (8a-5p, M-F) bookbot/human conveyor belt at a library storage facility. From 8a-10:30a, I pull books off the shelf, and from 2p-5p I put books back on the shelf. For that in-between time I get to put books back on the shelf or check to make sure that books were put back in the correct place on the shelf. Also, I move giant carts full of books back and forth.
At least it's only for 5 months. And, it gives me the chance to bring you the books that, chances are, no one except for the delinquents in a scanning facility will ever see again. I work where books come to die, and I'm digging for shelved treasure. Let me know what you think.
At least it's only for 5 months. And, it gives me the chance to bring you the books that, chances are, no one except for the delinquents in a scanning facility will ever see again. I work where books come to die, and I'm digging for shelved treasure. Let me know what you think.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Oh, Adorno...
Adorno hates everyone, but its only because he is better than them.
From Minima Moralia:
72
Clogs – “floppies,” slippers [in English] – are made so that one can slip them on one’s feet without using the hands. They are monuments to the hatred of bending over.
Germans are human beings who can’t tell a lie without believing it themselves.
Every work of art is an unexecuted [abgedungene] crime.
132
[...]The good things, for which they opt, have long since been acknowledged, their numbers accordingly limited, as fixed in the value-hierarchy as those in the student fraternities. While they denounce official kitsch, their sensibility is dependent, like obedient children, on nourishment already sought out in advance, on the cliches of hostility to cliches. The dwellings of young bohemians resemble their spiritual household. On the wall, deceptively original color prints of famous artists, such as Van Gogh’s Sunflowers or the Café at Arles, on the bookshelf derivative works on socialism and psychoanalysis and a little sex-research for the uninhibited with inhibitions. In addition, the Random House edition of Proust – Scott Moncrieff’s translation deserved a better fate – exclusivity at reduced prices, whose exterior alone, the compact-economic form of the omnibus, is a mockery of the author, whose every sentence knocks a received opinion out of action, while he now plays, as a prize-winning homosexual, the same role with youth as books on animals of the forest and the North Pole expedition in the German home. Also, the record player with the Lincoln cantata of a brave soul, which deals essentially with railroad stations, next to the obligatory eye-catching folklore from Oklahoma and a pair of brassy jazz records, which make one feel simultaneously collective, bold and comfortable. Every judgment is approved by friends, they know all the arguments in advance. That all cultural products, even the non-conformist ones, are incorporated into the mechanism of distribution of large-scale capital, that in the most developed lands a creation which does not bear the imprimatur of mass production can scarcely reach any readers, observers, or listeners, refuses the material in advance for the deviating longing. Even Kafka is turned into a piece of inventory in the rented apartment. Intellectuals themselves are already so firmly established, in their isolated spheres, in what is confirmed, that they can no longer desire anything which is not served to them under the brand of “highbrow” [in English in original]. Their sole ambition consists of finding their way in the accepted canon, of saying the right thing. The outsider status of the initiates is an illusion and mere waiting-time. It would be giving them too much credit to call them renegades; they wear overlarge horn-rimmed glasses on their mediocre faces, solely to better pass themselves off as “brilliant” to themselves and to others in the general competition. They are already exactly like them. The subjective precondition of opposition, the non-normalized judgment, goes extinct, while its trappings continue to be carried out as a group ritual. Stalin need only clear his throat, and they throw Kafka and Van Gogh on the trash-heap.
51
Behind the mirror. First word of caution for authors: check every text, every fragment, and every line to see if the central motif presents itself clearly enough. Whoever wants to express something, is so carried away that they are driven along, without reflecting on such. One is too close to the intention, “in thought,” and forgets to say, what one wants to say.
No improvement is too small or piddling to be carried out. Out of a hundred changes, a single one may appear trifling and pedantic; together they can raise the text to a new level.
One should never stint on deletions. Length doesn’t matter and the fear that there isn’t enough there is childish. One shouldn’t consider anything worth preserving, just because it’s written down. If several sentences seem to vary the same thought, this usually indicates several variations of something the author has not yet mastered. In that case one should select the best formulation and work on it further. The toolkit [Technik] of an author should include the capacity to renounce productive thoughts, so long as the construction demands it. The wealth and energy of these latter ultimately come to benefit suppressed thoughts. Rather like the banquet-table, where one shouldn’t eat every last crumb or drink to the dregs. Otherwise one might be accused of stinginess.
Whoever wants to avoid cliches, should not restrict themselves to words, lest one falls victim to vulgar coquetry. The great French prose of the 19th century was especially sensitive to this. Individual words are seldom banal: in music, too, the single tone never wears out. The worst cliches of them all are on the contrary word-grams [Wortverbindungen] of the sort which Karl Kraus skewered: totally and completely, for better or for worse, planned and implemented. For in them gurgles, as it were, the sluggish flow of stale language, precisely where the author should construct, through precision of expression, those resistances which are required wherever language emerges. This applies not just to word-grams but also to the construction of entire forms. If a dialectician always marked the dialectical recoil [Umschlag] of a thought which advances beyond itself by putting a “however” [aber: however, but] in front of the caesura, then the literary schemata would punish the unschematic intent of what is being discussed with untruth.
The jungle is no sacred grove. It is obligatory to resolve difficulties which derive solely from the comfort and ease of self-understanding. The distinction between the desire to write with a density appropriate to the depth of the object, and the temptation for the abstruse and pretentious sloppiness, is not automatic: a mistrustful insistence is always healthy. Precisely those who wish to make no concession to the stupidity of common sense must guard themselves against stylistically draping together thoughts which are themselves to be convicted of banality. Locke’s platitudes do not justify Hamann’s cryptology.
If one has even the slightest qualms about a completed work, regardless of its length, then one should take such with inordinate seriousness, out of all proportion to the level of relevance which it might register. The affective investment [Besetzung] in a text and vanity tend to minimize such misgivings. What is passed over with the tiniest doubt, may well indicate the objective worthlessness of the whole.
The Echternacher spring procession [German folk parade, where marchers move three steps forward and two back] is not the course of the World-Spirit [Weltgeist]; restriction and revocation are not the means of narration [Darstellungsmittel] for dialectics. On the contrary this latter moves by extremes and, instead of qualifying such, drives the thought through uttermost consequence to its dialectical recoil [Umschlag]. The prudence with which one forbids oneself to venture too far with a sentence, is mostly only an agent of social control and thus of dumbing down.
Skepticism against the oft-cited objection, that a text, a formulation would be “too beautiful.” The reverence for the matter [Sache: thing, philosophic matter], or even for suffering, can easily rationalize the resentment against those who find, in the reified shape of language, the traces of something unbearable, which befalls human beings: debasement. The dream of an existence [Dasein: existence, being] without shame, to which the passion for language clings, even though the latter is forbidden to depict the former as content, is to be maliciously strangled. The author should make no distinction between beautiful and factual [sachlichem: factual, objective, realistic] expression. One should neither entrust this distinction to concerned critics, nor tolerate it in oneself. If one succeeds in completely saying what one means, then it is beautiful. The beauty of expression for its own sake is by no means “too beautiful,” but ornamental, artsy, ugly. Yet whoever leaves off from the purity of the expression, under the pretext of unswervingly stating the facts, thereby betrays the matter [Sache] too.
Properly worked texts are like spider webs: hermetic, concentric, transparent, well-joined and fastened. They draw everything into themselves, whatever crawls and flies. Metaphors, which fleetingly dart through them, become their nourishing prey. Materials come flying to them. The binding stringency [Stichhaltigkeit] of a conception is to be judged by whether its citations evoke other citations. Wherever the thought opens up a cell of reality, it must push into the next chamber, without an act of violence by the subject. It vouchsafes its relationship to the object, as soon as other objects crystallize around it. In the light that it sheds on its determinate object, others begin to gleam.
Authors settle into their texts like home-dwellers. Just as one creates disorder by lugging papers, books, pencils and documents from one room to another, so too does one comport oneself with thoughts. They become pieces of furniture, on which one sits down, feeling at ease or annoyed. One strokes them tenderly, scuffs them up, jumbles them up, moves them around, trashes them. To those who no longer have a homeland, writing becomes home. And therein one unavoidably generates, just like the family, all manner of household litter and junk. But one no longer has a shed, and it is not at all easy to separate oneself from cast-offs. So one pushes them to and fro, and in the end runs the risk of filling up the page with them. The necessity to harden oneself against pity for oneself includes the technical necessity, to counter the diminution of intellectual tension with the most extreme watchfulness, and to eliminate anything which forms on the work like a crust or runs on mechanically, which perhaps at an earlier stage produced, like gossip, the warm atmosphere which enabled it to grow, but which now remains fusty and stale. In the end, authors are not even allowed to be home in their writing.
Thanks to the interwebs and http://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/adorno/1951/mm/index.htm for these.
From Minima Moralia:
72
Clogs – “floppies,” slippers [in English] – are made so that one can slip them on one’s feet without using the hands. They are monuments to the hatred of bending over.
Germans are human beings who can’t tell a lie without believing it themselves.
Every work of art is an unexecuted [abgedungene] crime.
132
[...]The good things, for which they opt, have long since been acknowledged, their numbers accordingly limited, as fixed in the value-hierarchy as those in the student fraternities. While they denounce official kitsch, their sensibility is dependent, like obedient children, on nourishment already sought out in advance, on the cliches of hostility to cliches. The dwellings of young bohemians resemble their spiritual household. On the wall, deceptively original color prints of famous artists, such as Van Gogh’s Sunflowers or the Café at Arles, on the bookshelf derivative works on socialism and psychoanalysis and a little sex-research for the uninhibited with inhibitions. In addition, the Random House edition of Proust – Scott Moncrieff’s translation deserved a better fate – exclusivity at reduced prices, whose exterior alone, the compact-economic form of the omnibus, is a mockery of the author, whose every sentence knocks a received opinion out of action, while he now plays, as a prize-winning homosexual, the same role with youth as books on animals of the forest and the North Pole expedition in the German home. Also, the record player with the Lincoln cantata of a brave soul, which deals essentially with railroad stations, next to the obligatory eye-catching folklore from Oklahoma and a pair of brassy jazz records, which make one feel simultaneously collective, bold and comfortable. Every judgment is approved by friends, they know all the arguments in advance. That all cultural products, even the non-conformist ones, are incorporated into the mechanism of distribution of large-scale capital, that in the most developed lands a creation which does not bear the imprimatur of mass production can scarcely reach any readers, observers, or listeners, refuses the material in advance for the deviating longing. Even Kafka is turned into a piece of inventory in the rented apartment. Intellectuals themselves are already so firmly established, in their isolated spheres, in what is confirmed, that they can no longer desire anything which is not served to them under the brand of “highbrow” [in English in original]. Their sole ambition consists of finding their way in the accepted canon, of saying the right thing. The outsider status of the initiates is an illusion and mere waiting-time. It would be giving them too much credit to call them renegades; they wear overlarge horn-rimmed glasses on their mediocre faces, solely to better pass themselves off as “brilliant” to themselves and to others in the general competition. They are already exactly like them. The subjective precondition of opposition, the non-normalized judgment, goes extinct, while its trappings continue to be carried out as a group ritual. Stalin need only clear his throat, and they throw Kafka and Van Gogh on the trash-heap.
51
Behind the mirror. First word of caution for authors: check every text, every fragment, and every line to see if the central motif presents itself clearly enough. Whoever wants to express something, is so carried away that they are driven along, without reflecting on such. One is too close to the intention, “in thought,” and forgets to say, what one wants to say.
No improvement is too small or piddling to be carried out. Out of a hundred changes, a single one may appear trifling and pedantic; together they can raise the text to a new level.
One should never stint on deletions. Length doesn’t matter and the fear that there isn’t enough there is childish. One shouldn’t consider anything worth preserving, just because it’s written down. If several sentences seem to vary the same thought, this usually indicates several variations of something the author has not yet mastered. In that case one should select the best formulation and work on it further. The toolkit [Technik] of an author should include the capacity to renounce productive thoughts, so long as the construction demands it. The wealth and energy of these latter ultimately come to benefit suppressed thoughts. Rather like the banquet-table, where one shouldn’t eat every last crumb or drink to the dregs. Otherwise one might be accused of stinginess.
Whoever wants to avoid cliches, should not restrict themselves to words, lest one falls victim to vulgar coquetry. The great French prose of the 19th century was especially sensitive to this. Individual words are seldom banal: in music, too, the single tone never wears out. The worst cliches of them all are on the contrary word-grams [Wortverbindungen] of the sort which Karl Kraus skewered: totally and completely, for better or for worse, planned and implemented. For in them gurgles, as it were, the sluggish flow of stale language, precisely where the author should construct, through precision of expression, those resistances which are required wherever language emerges. This applies not just to word-grams but also to the construction of entire forms. If a dialectician always marked the dialectical recoil [Umschlag] of a thought which advances beyond itself by putting a “however” [aber: however, but] in front of the caesura, then the literary schemata would punish the unschematic intent of what is being discussed with untruth.
The jungle is no sacred grove. It is obligatory to resolve difficulties which derive solely from the comfort and ease of self-understanding. The distinction between the desire to write with a density appropriate to the depth of the object, and the temptation for the abstruse and pretentious sloppiness, is not automatic: a mistrustful insistence is always healthy. Precisely those who wish to make no concession to the stupidity of common sense must guard themselves against stylistically draping together thoughts which are themselves to be convicted of banality. Locke’s platitudes do not justify Hamann’s cryptology.
If one has even the slightest qualms about a completed work, regardless of its length, then one should take such with inordinate seriousness, out of all proportion to the level of relevance which it might register. The affective investment [Besetzung] in a text and vanity tend to minimize such misgivings. What is passed over with the tiniest doubt, may well indicate the objective worthlessness of the whole.
The Echternacher spring procession [German folk parade, where marchers move three steps forward and two back] is not the course of the World-Spirit [Weltgeist]; restriction and revocation are not the means of narration [Darstellungsmittel] for dialectics. On the contrary this latter moves by extremes and, instead of qualifying such, drives the thought through uttermost consequence to its dialectical recoil [Umschlag]. The prudence with which one forbids oneself to venture too far with a sentence, is mostly only an agent of social control and thus of dumbing down.
Skepticism against the oft-cited objection, that a text, a formulation would be “too beautiful.” The reverence for the matter [Sache: thing, philosophic matter], or even for suffering, can easily rationalize the resentment against those who find, in the reified shape of language, the traces of something unbearable, which befalls human beings: debasement. The dream of an existence [Dasein: existence, being] without shame, to which the passion for language clings, even though the latter is forbidden to depict the former as content, is to be maliciously strangled. The author should make no distinction between beautiful and factual [sachlichem: factual, objective, realistic] expression. One should neither entrust this distinction to concerned critics, nor tolerate it in oneself. If one succeeds in completely saying what one means, then it is beautiful. The beauty of expression for its own sake is by no means “too beautiful,” but ornamental, artsy, ugly. Yet whoever leaves off from the purity of the expression, under the pretext of unswervingly stating the facts, thereby betrays the matter [Sache] too.
Properly worked texts are like spider webs: hermetic, concentric, transparent, well-joined and fastened. They draw everything into themselves, whatever crawls and flies. Metaphors, which fleetingly dart through them, become their nourishing prey. Materials come flying to them. The binding stringency [Stichhaltigkeit] of a conception is to be judged by whether its citations evoke other citations. Wherever the thought opens up a cell of reality, it must push into the next chamber, without an act of violence by the subject. It vouchsafes its relationship to the object, as soon as other objects crystallize around it. In the light that it sheds on its determinate object, others begin to gleam.
Authors settle into their texts like home-dwellers. Just as one creates disorder by lugging papers, books, pencils and documents from one room to another, so too does one comport oneself with thoughts. They become pieces of furniture, on which one sits down, feeling at ease or annoyed. One strokes them tenderly, scuffs them up, jumbles them up, moves them around, trashes them. To those who no longer have a homeland, writing becomes home. And therein one unavoidably generates, just like the family, all manner of household litter and junk. But one no longer has a shed, and it is not at all easy to separate oneself from cast-offs. So one pushes them to and fro, and in the end runs the risk of filling up the page with them. The necessity to harden oneself against pity for oneself includes the technical necessity, to counter the diminution of intellectual tension with the most extreme watchfulness, and to eliminate anything which forms on the work like a crust or runs on mechanically, which perhaps at an earlier stage produced, like gossip, the warm atmosphere which enabled it to grow, but which now remains fusty and stale. In the end, authors are not even allowed to be home in their writing.
Thanks to the interwebs and http://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/adorno/1951/mm/index.htm for these.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Does the Library of Congress have a sense of humour?
Just a few classification jokes for the ubernerd:
Subclass B: Philosophy (General)
Subclass BS: The Bible
Subclass T: Technology
Subclass TX: Home Economics
ex. TX370 .S63 2006
Encyclopedia of junk food and fast food / <2006>
Author: Smith, Andrew F., 1946-
Published: Westport, Conn. : Greenwood Press, 2006.
Location(s): BIOS: TX370 .S63 2006 Reserve; DREF: TX370 .S63 2006 Directories;
Electronic Location(s):
Table of contents http://www.loc.gov/catdir/toc/ecip0612/2006012113.html
Notice the Encyclopedia or Junk Food and Fast Food is TX--Texas. Hmmmmm????
Subclass B: Philosophy (General)
Subclass BS: The Bible
Subclass T: Technology
Subclass TX: Home Economics
ex. TX370 .S63 2006
Encyclopedia of junk food and fast food / <2006>
Author: Smith, Andrew F., 1946-
Published: Westport, Conn. : Greenwood Press, 2006.
Location(s): BIOS: TX370 .S63 2006 Reserve; DREF: TX370 .S63 2006 Directories;
Electronic Location(s):
Table of contents http://www.loc.gov/catdir/toc/ecip0612/2006012113.html
Notice the Encyclopedia or Junk Food and Fast Food is TX--Texas. Hmmmmm????
Cloverfield Monsterrrrr Returns!!!
What what? Me and Shane's radtastical Cloverfield backstory is once again tops of Google. shaneboyle.com is number one and two and somehow, just somehow, I have subsequently made it to number four. Woohoo!!!
Monday, April 7, 2008
PE1583.P33 1995 Dictionaries
Title: Speaking of animals : a dictionary of animal metaphors / Robert A. Palmatier.
Author: Palmatier, Robert A. (Robert Allen)
Place/Publisher: Westport, Conn. : Greenwood Press,
Date: 1995.
Description xxii, 472 p. ; 25 cm.
Notes Includes bibliographical references (p. [xvii]-xix.)
Author: Palmatier, Robert A. (Robert Allen)
Place/Publisher: Westport, Conn. : Greenwood Press,
Date: 1995.
Description xxii, 472 p. ; 25 cm.
Notes Includes bibliographical references (p. [xvii]-xix.)
Saturday, April 5, 2008
PN2035.R3
A very cute, small book:
Title: An international vocabulary of technical theatre terms in eight languages (American, Dutch, English, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Swedish) edited by Kenneth Rae and Richard Southern for the International Theatre Institute.
Place/Publisher: Bruxelles, Elsevier
Date: 1959.
Description: 139 p.
Alternate Title Lexique international de termes techniques de theatre.
Title: An international vocabulary of technical theatre terms in eight languages (American, Dutch, English, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Swedish) edited by Kenneth Rae and Richard Southern for the International Theatre Institute.
Place/Publisher: Bruxelles, Elsevier
Date: 1959.
Description: 139 p.
Alternate Title Lexique international de termes techniques de theatre.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
QL85.E54 2007
I bet Syd is in here somewhere.
Title: Encyclopedia of human-animal relationships : a global exploration of our connections with animals / edited by Marc Bekoff.
Alternate Title: Human-animal relationships
Place/Publisher: Westport, Conn. : Greenwood Press,
Date: 2007.
Description: 4 v. : ill. ; 27 cm.
Notes: Includes bibliographical references and index.
v. 1. A-Con -- v. 2. Con-Eth -- v. 3. Eth-Liv -- v. 4. Liv-Z.
Table of contents also issued online.
Electronic Access Table of contents only http://www.loc.gov/catdir/toc/ecip0716/2007016552.html
Other Authors Bekoff, Marc.
Title: Encyclopedia of human-animal relationships : a global exploration of our connections with animals / edited by Marc Bekoff.
Alternate Title: Human-animal relationships
Place/Publisher: Westport, Conn. : Greenwood Press,
Date: 2007.
Description: 4 v. : ill. ; 27 cm.
Notes: Includes bibliographical references and index.
v. 1. A-Con -- v. 2. Con-Eth -- v. 3. Eth-Liv -- v. 4. Liv-Z.
Table of contents also issued online.
Electronic Access Table of contents only http://www.loc.gov/catdir/toc/ecip0716/2007016552.html
Other Authors Bekoff, Marc.
Friday, March 7, 2008
You're not?
I was watching TV the other morning and an advertisement for YAZ birth control pills came on. There was some monologue about how the pill is 99% effective but doesn't help with blah blah blah other lady's problems. Then, we're told we don't have to deal with lesser pills...and a song begins to play which starts off with the genius lyrics of: "We're not gonna take it!/ No, we're not gonna take it!/ We're not gonna take it, anymore!"
Who wrote this ad?? A catholic? Someone with a serious grudge against YAZ? How did the company not notice the ad was telling people not to use their product? We will never know.
Also, I am Chicago for the weekend and I haven't totally frozen my ass off yet. Also, I haven't been outside for more than ten minutes. Niiiiice indoor heating, niiiiice.
Who wrote this ad?? A catholic? Someone with a serious grudge against YAZ? How did the company not notice the ad was telling people not to use their product? We will never know.
Also, I am Chicago for the weekend and I haven't totally frozen my ass off yet. Also, I haven't been outside for more than ten minutes. Niiiiice indoor heating, niiiiice.
Friday, February 29, 2008
:-(
I just found out from security that it was indeed an art history department function--
Michio Hayashi, Professor, Hisory of Art, Sophia University, Tokyo
Other Orbits in Gutai: Akira Kanayama and Atsuko Tanaka
308J Doe Library, 5:15 pm--
and (not) a pack of dangerous alcoholics. The question of whether they attacked a homeless woman is still up in the air.
Also, there is a sparrow flying around somewhere in the reference rooms. I bet it is bored.
Michio Hayashi, Professor, Hisory of Art, Sophia University, Tokyo
Other Orbits in Gutai: Akira Kanayama and Atsuko Tanaka
308J Doe Library, 5:15 pm--
and (not) a pack of dangerous alcoholics. The question of whether they attacked a homeless woman is still up in the air.
Also, there is a sparrow flying around somewhere in the reference rooms. I bet it is bored.
QA276.15.P671 1986
It's thirteen minutes into my shift at the desk and I have already had three encounters.
While first sitting at the desk, I glanced up to see one of my least favourite Berkeley homeless (differently privileged?) people walk by. When I worked at Peet's, he would come into the store when were busy and stick his whole hand in the tip jar and just take everything out. We weren't getting many tips anyway at that store, so it really sucked when the little we would get disappeared. The staff there would grab the tip jars when we saw him coming and stash them under the counter until he had gone. They called him "Fashionista"--he dresses like a hipster and until you get close, the only thing that gives him away is the shoes that are often ten sizes too small, much like the Grinch's heart (and my own, for those more charitable peoplethat may read this).
One perfectly normal gent was having difficulty finding a book
(Title The rise of statistical thinking, 1820-1900
Author Porter, Theodore M., 1953-
Place/Publisher Princeton, N.J. : Princeton University Press,
Date 1986.
Description xii, 333 p. ; 25 cm.
Location(s): Main Stack QA276.15.P671 1986)
and when I searched Pathfinder with the call number the book didn't appear, but did when I entered the title, which is odd.
While helping this gent some woman came up to the desk, the type who you can't tell if they are a crazy homeless person or a crazy professor, and told me to immediately call security to room 308 (there are rooms 308A-J, by the way) to remove a pack of dangerous alcoholics, who she claimed had attacked her. I couldn't see her eyes behind her giant reflective clip-on sunglass lenses to tell if she was lying, but something told me she might just the the homeless version of crazy. Also, I had suspicions maybe she had walked into either a. a group of art history grad students and professors getting down and dirty or b. the men's restroom. I called security just in case. I kind of want to know what happened with that. I kind of hope there is a pack of dangerous alcoholics hiding in a seminar room attacking passers-by.
Also, I found a copy of Barthes' Camera Lucida belonging to the Main stacks in the NRR, in the original French. Oddly enough, in French the title is not Camera Lucida, but La chambre claire. It is past due and I think I know where the security tag is. Hmmmm...
Title La chambre claire : note sur la photographie
Author Barthes, Roland.
Place/Publisher [Paris : Cahiers du cinema,
Date c1980
Description 192 p., [1 leaf of plates : ill. ; 22 cm
Location(s): Main Stack TR642.B37 On 1 day reserve; at Grad Svcs
RECALLED; DUE: 02/23/08
Damnit! It's on reserve in Grad Services. I'll return itttt...
While first sitting at the desk, I glanced up to see one of my least favourite Berkeley homeless (differently privileged?) people walk by. When I worked at Peet's, he would come into the store when were busy and stick his whole hand in the tip jar and just take everything out. We weren't getting many tips anyway at that store, so it really sucked when the little we would get disappeared. The staff there would grab the tip jars when we saw him coming and stash them under the counter until he had gone. They called him "Fashionista"--he dresses like a hipster and until you get close, the only thing that gives him away is the shoes that are often ten sizes too small, much like the Grinch's heart (and my own, for those more charitable peoplethat may read this).
One perfectly normal gent was having difficulty finding a book
(Title The rise of statistical thinking, 1820-1900
Author Porter, Theodore M., 1953-
Place/Publisher Princeton, N.J. : Princeton University Press,
Date 1986.
Description xii, 333 p. ; 25 cm.
Location(s): Main Stack QA276.15.P671 1986)
and when I searched Pathfinder with the call number the book didn't appear, but did when I entered the title, which is odd.
While helping this gent some woman came up to the desk, the type who you can't tell if they are a crazy homeless person or a crazy professor, and told me to immediately call security to room 308 (there are rooms 308A-J, by the way) to remove a pack of dangerous alcoholics, who she claimed had attacked her. I couldn't see her eyes behind her giant reflective clip-on sunglass lenses to tell if she was lying, but something told me she might just the the homeless version of crazy. Also, I had suspicions maybe she had walked into either a. a group of art history grad students and professors getting down and dirty or b. the men's restroom. I called security just in case. I kind of want to know what happened with that. I kind of hope there is a pack of dangerous alcoholics hiding in a seminar room attacking passers-by.
Also, I found a copy of Barthes' Camera Lucida belonging to the Main stacks in the NRR, in the original French. Oddly enough, in French the title is not Camera Lucida, but La chambre claire. It is past due and I think I know where the security tag is. Hmmmm...
Title La chambre claire : note sur la photographie
Author Barthes, Roland.
Place/Publisher [Paris : Cahiers du cinema,
Date c1980
Description 192 p., [1 leaf of plates : ill. ; 22 cm
Location(s): Main Stack TR642.B37 On 1 day reserve; at Grad Svcs
RECALLED; DUE: 02/23/08
Damnit! It's on reserve in Grad Services. I'll return itttt...
Friday, February 1, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
N45.C375 2007
Title: Artists' monograms and indiscernible signatures II : an international directory from 1800 / John Castagno.
Author: Castagno, John, 1930-
Place/Publisher: Lanham, Md. : Scarecrow Press,
Date: c2007.
Description: xxiv, 283 p. ; 29 cm.
Location(s): Doe Refe N45.C375 2007
Author: Castagno, John, 1930-
Place/Publisher: Lanham, Md. : Scarecrow Press,
Date: c2007.
Description: xxiv, 283 p. ; 29 cm.
Location(s): Doe Refe N45.C375 2007
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Cloverfield Backstory
Did I mention I helped write a sweet Cloverfield backstory?
We were number one on Google for three days!
We were number one on Google for three days!
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