December 4th, 2006

cass groovy

say hey to Kamini

So, let's say that your father comes from the Congo. Let's also say that he's a doctor. Let's further stipulate that he decided to emigrate to France, and that you were brought up there.

Finally, let's say your family didn't move to Paris, or Marseilles, or someplace where there's a good-sized minority population, but the village of Marly-Gomont, with a population of approximately 420 humans and about eight thousand cows, thus making you the only black kid for *miles.*

What do you do? Well, if you're a part-time psychiatric nurse named Kamini, you do this:



(Lyrics, in French, here. Found via Tim Worstall. ETA: Just realized why his chorus sounds familiar -- it borrows from Tupac's "Hit Em Up.")
pointy teeth

Bruce/Dick, the musical

I've always had a soft spot for people with varied interests, or at least strong minors. There's something about reading philosopher Jose Ortega y Gasset on hunting, or the naturalist Gerald Durrell on food that just makes my heart warm, because you know they're writing on the subject purely from love. Not that they don't love what they do normally, but it's always interesting to see what makes people step outside of their box.

For political columnist Mark Steyn, it's Broadway. I mention this week's installment of his musical musings because it's noteworthy for DCU slash fans, of whom I know one or two. Steyn discusses a lovely ballad, which I've never heard, called "Time on my Hands." The lyrics are nice, sweet, very gentle: "Time On My Hands / You in my arms / Nothing but love / In view" et cetera. Nothing whatsoever disturbing and wrong. Just *perfect* for a 1930 Broadway show called SMILES -- which, as Steyn sums it up, sounds like something you'd want to go back in time to see: "A Ziegfeld production, a Youmans score, book by expert librettist Bill McGuire from a story by Noel Coward, sets by Joseph Urban, starring Broadway’s favorite leading lady Marilyn Miller, plus Fred and Adele Astaire..."

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