Where do the birds go?
 Each year I go to the Hollywood Bowl's sunrise Easter service. I pack some coffee in a thermos, drive through the teller window of the Burbank Krispy Kreme, and find much better Bowl parking than I would for, say, Elvis Costello and The Police.
This year's theme, we were told, was "Peace on Earth." I have a feeling that that is always the theme and no one could put aside his precious placidity long enough to suggest another one, like "Jesus in Space." Peace on Earth. That's like calling a Fourth of July parade "Celebrating America."
Still, the event is a Hollywood tradition with local choirs, a "living cross" of children arranged in a cross pattern who dramatically doff their black robes to reveal white ones, and the release of dozens of white birds when the choir sings "Paradise City" "Let There Be Peace on Earth."
 I can imagine the effect was jaw-dropping in 1921, but it's still a lot better today than bottle service.
Well, the Living Cross was a little smaller this year, Shirley Jones was not on hand to read "The Master Is Coming," and an unprecedented cello-acompanied dance performance seemed strange (in that the dancers ended up folded together on the floor), but a grand time was had by all, as always.
It left me wondering, though. When ceremonial birds are released, where do they go? Are they ceremonially captured and eaten, too? Is that what Shirley Jones was doing this year?
Previously: Bowl of Pigs; Bugs at the BowlLabels: events, los angeles
New breed of spam thinks you're boring
 Like love, spam goes through cycles. Sometimes we receive more mortgage spam, sometimes we receive more diplomas from non-accredited universities spam. One thing is certain: we will always receive Viagra spam, and that is comforting.
But whereas last year's big spam trend was a provocative, get you on the defensive subject line like "Where were you last night?" this year's crop is aimed at slackers:
Hello! I am tired today. I am nice girl that would like to chat with you. Email me at (xxxxxxx) only, because I am using my friend's email to write this. Don't miss some of my naughty pictures.
This troubles me. Spam is supposed to appeal to our vanity, to uplift us, to make us think that the world can be better.
What kind of person responds to "I am tired today (so I thought of you)"? What kind of person uses a friend's computer? Do we use a friend's toothbrush? Orthodontic elastics? Mail-order bride?
Let's say your name is Norman and you walk into a room to hear your friends talking.
"And I said, 'Yes, if I were a big fat fatty fat fatass fatty with fat for brains and instead of teeth I had fat,' and oh, speaking of fat: Hello, Norman."
Since I am tired today I have devised some uplifting spam that you are encouraged via Creative Commons License to circulate throughout the world.
Subject: Your Great Worth to the World
Hello! I am seeking a scintillating person such as yourself to view pictures of me covered with oil and jellies in this home I purchased with an adjustable rate mortgage from a Canadian pharmacy. As we are both PhDs from non-accredited universities filled with lovely Russian ladies who want to meet you in Nigeria, perhaps you can sign this petition to keep NPR from losing its funding. Send to 30 friends or you will die (and go to heaven).
That would make me feel better about giving out my Social Security number.Labels: spam, viral
|
about
the editor
the voluptuary
cautionary tales
appropriate images
the mavervorl phenomenon
I only work with the best of 2004's technology.
The
links below may, and often do, contain objectionable material. Go ahead.
Wreck your life.
|
