If you accidentally inject air into your vein, it is important to cut off your arm immediately so you don’t die.
Man Attempts To Amputate Own Arm In Denny’s
Modesto police say a local man who tried to cut off his own arm at a Denny’s restaurant thought he had injected air into one of his veins while shooting cocaine and would die unless he took drastic action.
The man, identified by police as Michael Lasiter, 33, rushed into the restaurant on Friday night and started stabbing himself in the right arm with a butter knife he grabbed from a customer’s table, police say. When that knife didn’t work, Lasiter allegedly took a butcher knife from the kitchen and dug it into his arm.
Lasiter, who was arrested and taken to a local hospital with severe cuts, told officers he thought he needed to amputate his arm to keep himself from dying from the cocaine injection, says Modesto police Sgt. Brian Findlen.
The Denny’s closed for the night after the incident.
By Leah Ollman, Special to The Times
August 30, 2008
Josh Dorman’s show at the Craft and Folk Art Museum opens with a warning, but not the usual sober sign you see at the entrance to certain exhibitions, aiming to shelter the unprepared from “inappropriate” content.
The notice, painted in sprightly letters on a plum-colored wall, alerts visitors that viewing Dorman’s collaged paintings may cause them to experience instability or dislocation. They might lose track of scale, gravity, time. “While clear answers may or may not reveal themselves,” the wall text declares, “the loose logic of a dream state will surely reveal much truth.”
Most of the work in “Within Four Miles: The World of Josh Dorman” is based on old topographical maps that the artist has cut out and collaged onto panels or canvas, drawn into and painted over. Typically, maps offer certitude and a clear sense of positional relationships. Dorman’s versions shed the anchors of rational order. They trade scientific method for poetic instinct. In finding a new use for old materials, Dorman has also resuscitated an obsolete definition of the word “map”: “to bewilder.”
Introducing the Twiller
You might remember the novel in its earlier form; it had a cover, and many pages, forethought of plot, editors and agents weighing in, and, oh yes, it generally had sentences and punctuation. And, finally, some poor suckers had to take the time out of their busy days to actually read it.
Introducing the Twiller.
Recently, a handful of creators (present company included) have scrapped pen and paper for mobile phone and keypad, and started texting their novels — in real time, just a few characters at a time. Our medium is Twitter, a service that lets you broadcast bursts of 140 characters at a time to be read by people who subscribe to get your updates.
In my case, I’ve for the last two months been using Twitter to write a real-time thriller. Hence: Twiller. (Cheap word play is what you get when you disintermediate, as they say, your agent and editor).
It’s about a man who wakes up in the mountains of Colorado, suffering from amnesia, with a haunting feeling he is a murderer. In possession of only a cell phone that lets him Twitter, he uses the phone to tell his story of self-discovery, 140 characters at a time. Think “Memento” on a mobile phone, with the occasional emoticon.
For Raymond Chandler, 1940s Los Angeles was a big hard-boiled city ‘with no more personality than a paper cup’. James Frey dissects the same big hard-boiled city sixty years on through a relentless depiction of the hopes and shattered dreams of the many and various who move to the sprawling and diverse metropolis – a mesmerising and moving microcosm of the human condition.
Bringing to life (and to death) a selection of the multitude drawn to the city of angels, Frey populates his book with the lonely, the egotistical, the depraved and the lost in what for many is an illustration of the decay that prefigures the decline and fall of a once-great empire – the United States of America.
Trevor White and Lorelei King share the narration in a stunningly brilliant example of the art ofaudiobook performance, chorusing the ups and downs (mostly downs) of the characters in the novel.
Bright Shiny Morning is one of the outstanding publications of the year and will be top of my list for an audiobookaward.
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© 2008 AudioBooksReview
Bullfighting is seen by many as cruel. But it is not merely a gaudy circus spectacle; at its best it is an art form. Can aesthetics justify the suffering of the animal?
The following events occurred on 19th April 2007, the second day of the Feria de Abril in Seville, in the Plaza de Toros de la Real Maestranza de Caballeria
His breeders have named him Borgoñés. He arrived in town the night before from the pastures of Victorino Martin’s estate in west-central Spain, 50 miles from the Portuguese border. Here, on this mix of pasture, scrub and woodland, Borgoñés learnt how to use his horns on other bulls and built his 86.5 stone bulk of muscle and bone. Now that he is alone for the first time in his life, the restraints on his more ferocious instincts have been removed.
Standing at the far edges of the circular ring, some 60 yards from the bull, are three banderilleros: companions and employees of the matador in lesser versions of his “suit of lights,” each with a large working cape in his hands, pink on one side, yellow on the other. They flap their capes from the safety of wooden hides in the barrier of the ring until Borgoñés charges across the ring, selecting his target. The bull does not stop until he hits the wall of the wooden hide, the man safely behind as Borgoñés jabs again and again at the wood, splinters flying. Borgoñés has shown that he is quick to take the lure, that he charges straight, without hesitation or pawing the ground, and that he favours his right horn.
The matador walks into the ring, an unprepossessing 33-year-old man of neat figure and composed manner. Manuel Jesús Cid Salas, or “El Cid,” was born in a small town on the outskirts of Seville called Salteras. He flaps his cape and the bull turns, raising his great head with its wide-ranging horns so that the vast goring muscle, the morillo, bunches on its shoulders to a size outstripping any other breed of bull in the world. And then he charges. Unlike his cuadrilla, his group of companions, El Cid does not hide but stands his ground, his back ramrod straight, the cape held out to the right of his body in both hands, feet together, and waits for Borgoñés to come to him. Borgoñés is fresh, the distance is sizeable, and the bull nears 30 miles per hour as he reaches El Cid. El Cid moves the cape slightly, and Borgoñés takes the moving lure over the stationary man and thunders past, his horns low where the movement was, the cape sweeping over his face in a perfect veronica, named after the saint of the same name who wiped the face of Christ on his way to Golgotha.
Borgoñés comes out the other side, frustrated that his horn met no opposition, and turns within two body lengths of passing El Cid, who has readjusted his own position to receive Borgoñés in another veronica, as neat as the first, the horns passing some 18 inches from El Cid’s face as Borgoñés leaps into the air when he reaches the cape, trying again to sate his rising fury in living flesh. The crowd, already impressed by the first veronica, shout an “olé!” for the second. Again Borgoñés passes the man by, again the crowd roars, again Borgoñés turns, again he passes, a foot away from the man this time, and he turns again, comes back and this time El Cid winds the cape around his own hips as Borgoñés follows it, winding the bull around his body in a media-veronica. For a brief moment, following the increasing display of risk and skill in the veronicas, we are given the sight of the man, stationary, in the midst of a circling fury, wearing this great beast like a belt, the crowd cheering, until Borgoñés, driven by his own momentum out of the charge, is drawn to a halt by attempting to turn in a distance shorter than his own body length. He is left panting, facing El Cid three yards away, who is standing with his back to the bull. El Cid receives his applause from the crowd and thus ends the section called suerte de capote, “luck of the cape,” the first half of the first act of the bullfight called the tercio de varas, the “third of the lances.”
El Cid has now learned that Borgoñés is a bull truly in the prime of life, possessed of speed, strength, stamina and courage, but without the excessive aggression which would make him unpredictable and self-destructive. He has sufficient intelligence to follow the cape in these moves—which have been refined over 250 years—but not so much that he has learnt to distinguish man and cape early in the fight. This bull, after all, has probably never seen a man on the ground before, his herdsmen on the estate all being mounted on horseback. However, he is learning. At some point he will, inevitably, see the man.
Discuss this piece at First Drafts, Prospect‘s blog
Industry Interview: instyle.co.uk’s Maria Milano
This week’s Industry Interview comes from Maria Milano, editor of instyle.co.uk:
As editor of instyle.co.uk, I am involved in all aspects of the website’s production, from writing, styling and editing my team’s work to more strategic tasks including budget crunching and analysing traffic figures to make sure readers are getting more of what they want. Attending A-list parties and fashion shows are certainly a perk of the job, although the quick turn-around time of the web means they’re also very hard work.
Read on to find out what Maria’s trend predictions for A/W are and what she’s been wearing to death…
What was the most exciting/interesting thing that happened this week?
I’ve just returned from holiday so I’m just getting back into the swing of things, but I received a number of fashion show invitations for the upcoming London Fashion Week while I was away, so I’m excited to do some RSVP-ing.
Which trends do you think are going to be big in the next few months?
There is a serious Seventies revival happening, so expect to see lots of flared trousers, fringing and earth tones. Also boho returns, but in a much more grown-up, luxurious folkloric kind of way. Gucci and Topshop have really nailed this trend. Personally, I’m excited to see that lace is making a comeback, which will be perfect for Christmas party season!
What are you wearing to death at the moment?
My Gap peg-leg trousers – I snapped up two pairs the minute they hit the shops.
What was the last book you read?
I just finished James Frey’s Bright Shiny Morning. It’s about a group of characters living in LA, and I wanted to read it before my two-week holiday in California. I really recommend it, despite all the James Frey controversy!
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…of a Classic Steve Martin Short
Wheelie-popping motorcyclist tops 150 mph, pauses to use cell phone
A speeding teenage motorcyclist who popped a wheelie on a North Dakota interstate and then opened up the throttle to more than 150 miles per hour took enough care to pull over before using his cell phone.
By the time authorities caught up with the suspect and his 1000cc Honda CBR, he was sitting in a ditch in Minnesota talking on his cell phone and promptly was arrested, according to the North Dakota Highway Patrol.
The motorcyclist, from Fargo, N.D., waived extradition and was returned to North Dakota to face charges of reckless driving and fleeing police.
According to the patrol:
The wild and woolly 35-minute scene began shortly before 4 p.m. Sunday, when a state trooper spotted the motorcyclist on Interstate Hwy. 29 in Fargo “riding a wheelie past several other motorists.”
Richard Serra: Thinking on Your Feet
Watching as Richard Serra Thinks Big and Does Big
Listening to Richard Serra talk about sculpture is like listening to Russell Crowe talk about acting: after a while you feel you’re either in the presence of genius or the victim of an elaborate con.
Fortunately for both, their work speaks for itself. “Richard Serra: Thinking on Your Feet” follows the construction and 2005 installation of “The Matter of Time,” the sculptor’s gigantic, eight-piece commission for the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao, Spain. (No rush: it’s guaranteed to be there for at least another 22 years.) As static and unadorned as the sculptures themselves, the movie gazes with rapt attention as Mr. Serra expounds on his love of steel mills (“Like bakeries that have gone into alchemy”) and as he maps the complex layout of each piece with tape measure and paper templates. Perhaps he distrusts 3-D computer software?
Operating at the intersection of art and industrial engineering, Mr. Serra — whose father worked in shipyards and whose sculptures can suggest the inverted hulls of tankers — is an informative if unanimated guide. Leading us through the massive metal spirals and gracefully curved rectangles that seem to defy gravity, he explains the spatial philosophy behind each mind-boggling piece (“We start with the void”), but all I could think was how the Lilliputians must have felt when confronted by one of Gulliver’s discarded apple peels. The style may be minimalist, but the vision is gargantuan.
ART IN THE HAMPTONS, by Judy Rey Wasserman
Long Island’s East End, known as the Hamptons, has long served as a summer retreat for New York City’s elite, but the region possesses an even more impressive history as home to some of the greatest American artists. In recent years, art dealers and collectors have followed suit, bringing with them galleries, art fairs and high-profile events.
According the Parrish Art Museum, over 600 artists have lived, worked or vacationed on the East End of Long Island since the 1870’s. When asked about local artists she’s befriended over the years, Janet Lehr–who opened Vered Gallery with Vered thirty years ago–recites a veritable who’s-who of modern and contemporary American artists who have lived and worked in the Hamptons, including Krasner, Flavin, DeKooning, Warhol, Rauschenberg, Avery, Porter, Chamberlain, Bleckner and Fischl.
“If you are going to be in the art world, then you have to be out [in the Hamptons] in the summertime. It’s where events, shows and networking are happening–the place to be seen,” says Christina Mossaides Strassfield, curator of the Guild Hall Museum, showing a retrospective of Larry Rivers‘ early works through October.
Although artists began flocking to the area in the mid-1800’s, the gallery scene emerged much more recently–most visibly heating up in the past decade. While speculation about a potential market downturn persists, the burgeoning Hamptons scene shows no signs of slowing down.
At the Fireplace Project in East Hampton, Edsel Williams’ recent curators have included Whitney Museum Board Member Beth Rudin DeWoody, Whitney Biennial curator Klaus Kertess and Creative Time President Anne Pasternak. According to Williams, whose gallery shows James Nares and Joe Zucker alongside heavyweights Damien Hirst and Dana Schutz, “We’re [in the Hamptons] because people really have a genuine interest in contemporary art and artists in all levels of their careers.” Sag Harbor’s Grenning Gallery recently celebrated their tenth anniversary with Ten Years , a retrospective exhibition featuring paintings from artists represented over the past decade.
Over the past year, the Hamptons’ gallery presence has continued to expand both locally and regionally. Hamptons mainstay Glenn Horowitz capitalized on his homegrown success and expanded his art and design bookshop with partner John McWhinnie by opening a Manhattan branch, John McWhinnie @ Glenn Horowitz Bookseller . McWhinnie and Horowitz most recently founded a publishing imprint to issue works by Richard Prince, Terry Richardson and Matthew Barney . According to Jeremy Sanders, Director of the original Hamptons space, Long Island’s East End is an ideal location for motivated new talents on both the art-making and dealing sides, providing “a more open playing field for people to make a splash in the art world.”
Time Out Chicago / Issue 182 : Aug 21–27, 2008
Photo: Matt Taplinger
A GOOD PLACE TO GET LIT It’s not the bookstore the neighborhood badly needs, but Chinaski’s is nevertheless doing its part to bring a little literary culture to its strip of Damen Avenue. Having taken over the Whiskey Road space a few weeks ago, the owners refashioned the bar to be a haven for people who like beer and words in equal amounts. (To wit, the name of the bar is taken from an autobiographical Charles Bukowski character.) The stage in the back room will now be put to use at a weekly Wednesday-night literary open mike, a comedy open mike on Thursdays and other bookish events, and the sandwiches on the menu are named for maverick authors and poets. But fans of Whiskey Road need not go into mourning yet—one thing Chinaski’s has kept around is the Monday-night baskets of unlimited bacon. 1935 N Damen Ave at Homer St (773-252-8531).
— David Tamarkin