Back from London (and Paris in a day)
The lines aren't that bad. Quit your bitching. What you should really be concerned about is the absolutely horrible light conditions inside Logan's Terminal B.
Compound time, (derrida's) trace=sketch=distortion, LCD screens, Language of McDonalds, tectonic plates, the waltz, sameness/collapse, celebration/cypher, inscription, VSBA, Will, data networks, transience, history, alienation.
"Mon petit canard," hands too cold to write, "Avez-vous une reservation?," WC operating hours, nicely integrated wood in the eurostar terminal, place des Vosges, double doormen, "chichi!," english everywhere, Jean Nouvel.
Light pouring over rural france where the walnuts grow and brown cows dot the pastures, linens at the Metropolitan, gimlets in a tiny room, Newson wooden chairs at the Hempel, rock shrimp tempura at Nobu, cars pouring into Covent Gardens, The Insult, Elgin marbles, unfortunate lighting at the Great Court, Sukie, "brekkie," "gone all pete tong."
When will America catch up: In Europe when you call 411 the number you requested is SMS'd back to you. It could only be better if it connected you and spoofed your phone into thinking it called directly so the number just showed up in the "dialed calls" list.
Tschumi's follies, Fred Wilson's rifle exhibit, bows.
Five days, two planes, four trains, one bus, one car, countless cabs, countless subways.
--Posted 11/29/01 12:18PM