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Thoughts on "Django Unchained"
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A Party for the AgesBy Starling Root QuailBellMagazine.com Before you start flittering about in a frenzy to prepare for tonight's festivities, breathe for a moment and reflect upon how NYE has been celebrated through the ages. It'll give you an excuse to, if nothing else, sit on your butt for a sec. First things first, most of the world follows the Gregorian calendar, which replaced the Julian calendar on February 24, 1582. According to the Gregorian calendar, it's—check your phone—December 31st. That's not the case in the Hebrew or Hindu or Chinese or several other regionally prominent calendars, but, again, most of the world goes by the Gregorian for purposes of business and politics, regardless of religious affiliation. That means that New Year's is the one and only totally global holiday. (Did your heart just melt a little?) New Year's was celebrated even before the Gregorian calendar was adopted. The difference was that New Year's occurred on dates other than the December 31st-going-into-the-wee-hours-of-January 1st. that we know today. The English, for example, used to equivocate March 25th, the Feast of the Annunciatio, with the first day of the new year. For them, January 1st was actually the date of the Feast of the Circumcision, the eighth day of baby Christ's life.
But who welcomed the new year first? The Babylonians, 4,000 years ago, on the vernal equinox, that day in late March where there are equal hours of night and day. Atiku, as the day was called, represented the conquest of Tiamat, the wicked sea goddess, by the sky god, Marduk. The celebration of the new year included a coronation ceremony for the new king, which was followed by a fantastic feast. Fast forward a few millennia and Times Square first celebrated NYE in 1904. Why then? Advertising. New York's biggest street party marked the official opening of The New York Times' new headquarters. Before the bash, Times Square was named Longacre Square. But Alfred Ochs, the German Jewish immigrant who owned the newspaper, lobbied the city to change the district's name. (This was back when newspapers had big power and big money!) 200,000 attendees made the festival a major hit. Tonight an estimated one million folks will revel in Times Square. Alright, you got your history lesson for the day. Now go out and elbow your way toward the cheapest champagne bottle in supermarket. Editor's Note: Itching for more mental candy? We ran a story last year called Global Folklore: New Year's Eve around the World last year. You should check it out! The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Partying like it's 1913? What a Quail Bell(e).The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A Fairy's New Year's EveBy Paisley Hibou QuailBellMagazine.com As you're finalizing your New Year's Eve plans, you may be wondering how your winged friends are spending theirs. No, not little quail birds—fairies. If there's anyone who knows how to get down and party, it's fairies. The fundamentalist Christian reasoning for that fun fairy fact is that fairies are pagan and therefore evil creatures. Sure, because glitter's really wicked. [Eye roll.] Well, it is, but only like a skateboarder would say wicked. As in, wicked cool. If sparkly isn't already your favorite color, it should be. But tomorrow night's not about glitter. There will simply be a lot of it in any fairy's New Year's celebration.
That probably brings you to another question: Do fairies, a decidedly non-Christian population, even celebrate New Year's Eve? The short answer is, yes, they do. Fairies, being open-minded folk, go by the Christian calendar when it means a celebration's in order. It gives them an excellent excuse to throw off their flower wreathes and let their hair down. Any excuse to make like Bacchus is a good one as far as a fairy's concerned. “But didn't the fairies celebrate the winter solstice not too long ago?” you ask. “That's like back-to-back partying.” To which a fairy would respond, “So? Didn't you celebrate Christmas not too long ago?” “Yeah, but Christmas is a religious holiday,” you counter. At this point, the fairy crosses her arms and sneers,“How religious is a holiday where you indulge in hypocritical consumerism as a way to pay tribute to the birth of man who lived as humbly as a modern-day Buddhist monk? How religious is a holiday where you get hammered from too much egg nog when your religion has historically looked down upon the excessive consumption of alcohol?” When a being the size of your thumb begins ranting at you like that, you'll probably stop asking questions just to get her to shut up. Accept it: Fairies are party animals. It might not work for you, but it has worked for them since before the dawn of man and it will work for them indefinitely. Because when you have magic at your fingertips, hangovers aren't a problem. At this very moment, the fairies are strapping the last few fireflies to their chosen pomegranate. Then they'll rig the pomegranate to a mighty oak for a fantastical ball drop tomorrow. The fairies are stuffing snowy rose buds with acorn powder and laying the buds out onto sycamore leaf platters. Tomorrow there will be a massive feast with enough mead to drown each and every fairy in attendance. The fairies are finalizing their dewdrop tiaras and frost gowns. Don't worry—the fairies have been doing all of this for centuries now, ever since the world adopted the “new” calendar. Maybe you're scrambling for last-minute tickets or the right pair of shoes. But the fairies know exactly what they're doing. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Mind Behind the LensBy Christine Stoddard QuailBellMagazine.com You could say that I first met Alexander C. Kafka over a lunch special at Pesce in Dupont Circle. But that clammy day almost a year ago did not mark our first true encounter. It merely marked our first face-to-face one. By that point, Alex had been sending Quail Bell poetry and photography submissions for several months. The Bethesda artist had stumbled across the website via Craigslist and thought Quail Bell might give his surreal work a loving nest. He thought right. Since summer 2011—before the site was fully fledged-- Quail Bell has welcomed Alex's creations to the roost. You'll find his poems and photos on The Unreal blogroll and a few of his portraits of yours truly in the About blogroll. I recently emailed Alex a few questions about his journey through his photography. After all, avid Quail Bell readers are probably just as curious about the mind behind the lens as I am. Alex generously replied (in long-form!) before leaving town for the holidays. Here are his responses: Oracle © Alexander C. Kafka. All Rights Reserved. • When did you first get into photography and how long have you been doing it now? The short answer, for those who are impatient and want to skip to the next question maybe, is a couple years, and maybe I should just leave it at that. But I won't. The medium answer is that I started out as a photography fan boy and was a late bloomer as a shooter. And here's the improbably long answer, in case anyone but me actually gives a hoot: I've been a newspaper reporter and/or editor since the mid-1980's and, particularly back when I worked for smaller papers in Florida and Texas, I was sometimes asked, as were most reporters, to bring a point-and-shoot or “sure shot” (in other words, idiot-proof) camera to snap a few pictures to run with the story I was writing. I recall taking some shots of a chrysanthemum nursery I was writing a business section piece about, for instance, when I interned for the Fort Myers (Fla.) News-Press in 1986 and, a couple years later, when I worked for the Corpus Christi (Texas) Caller-Times, taking some shots of a very senior administrator at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln whom I was profiling because he was headed to South Texas to run a university there. I admired the real news photographers for their versatility and sheer ability to haul ridiculous amounts of heavy equipment, but I didn't, at the time, have any urge to join them. Even before that, when I was a kid, I sometimes took my Kodak Instamatic skiing, a sport which my Austrian-refugee dad started my two older brothers and me on when we were preschoolers, and every now and then I got to use my dad’s heavy grown-up Canon and even his 8-millimeter movie camera. He and my oldest brother were fairly serious camera buffs, I think it’s fair to say, and would carry cameras around with them on the slopes and on trips in their backpacks. My dad, a psychoanalyst and very talented amateur painter and sketcher, was the classic slide-carousel-sharing vacation photographer. I still have, now on DVD, some 20 minutes of film footage he took of a lion eating a zebra during an early-1970s African safari in Kenya. At the time, it turned my stomach and embarrassed me when he showed it to dinner guests ("Wow, are those entrails?" "More wine?"). Now I’m sort of fascinated by it and just by the fact that he shot it. Bringing cameras was automatic for my dad, like packing strikingly dry cheese sandwiches and iffy looking pears for lunch. It struck me as ridiculous at the time. Now it doesn’t. Even better, my dad is still traveling at 91 years old, and still bringing a camera. Tree Woman 1
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Welcome to Oakwood CemeteryBy QB History Buff QuailBellMagazine.com Img: Kaminoge Welcome to Oakwood Cemetery in Falls Church, Virginia. You're not dead, just visiting the dead. And, boy, do you have plenty of corpses who are looking forward to feeling the flush of your warm blood in their lot. It's a good thing you just missed the Winter Solstice, or else those dead folks might actually come up to make trouble for trespassing mortals. But that scary window of time passed a week ago and you're safe. So take the Orange line of the WMATA subway to East Falls Church Metro, walk about ten minutes west, and feast your eyes upon this historic resting place. There aren't many truly quiet places in the auto-oriented Falls Church anymore. Consider Oakwood an exception. Though the cemetery was not incorporated until 1927, Oakwood's first burial occurred in 1779. In those days, a wooden Methodist chapel called Fairfax Chapel sat there. The wooden building was later replaced by a sturdier brick structure in 1819. The chapel lasted until 1862 when Union soldiers destroyed it during the Civil War. Unsurprisingly, many of Oakwood's graves date back to the Civil War. Today Oakwood Cemetery is located at North Roosevelt Street and Roosevelt Boulevard (hey, we're not praising Falls Church for creativity with its street names.) Oakwood is still an active cemetery, now on 12 acres and welcoming to members of all faiths. It is also one of the few cemetries in the area where every burial site allows for at least two internments. Either before or after your trip to Oakwood, skip on over to the neighboring Eden Center, a shopping center targeted toward the area's prevalent Vietnamese-American community. Maybe lump in a little pho with your spooky trip. OakwoodCemetery.Co
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Home Sweet HomeBy The Picture Pharmacist QuailBellMagazine.com Dear fledglings, This is the time of year when you think about home (and obsessive consumerism and your growing waistline.) With steaming apple pie sitting at the table at all times and a fireplace roaring like Santa Claus roars with laughter, home is pretty awesome these days. You like that your mom preserved your high school bedroom because now you can laugh at all the weird bands and clothes you liked back then. Making fun of yourself makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But what if your home were suddenly overrun by zombie swallows? This is a real phenomenon that happens in real neighborhoods in real life in real America. With zombie swallows in town, you can say good-bye to apple pie and your home sweet home. Zombie swallows are mean little buggers. To get a sense of what your home would look like if invaded by zombie swallows, download this pic and give those swallows some zombie-tude. Think red eyes, fangs, and slime oozing from their no-longer-precious feathers. Yeah, scary. And gross. So beware. And happy holidays. Yours truly, The Picture Pharmacist
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Let's see what the Aggre-gator's burped up...By QB Aggre-gator QuailBellMagazine.com Quail Bell's Aggre-gator, Gerald, has burped up the following links from November and December 2012. He wants to keep you abreast of global news and views that are imaginary, nostalgic, and otherworldly: • Grimm's Fairy Tales: 200th anniversary triggers a year of celebration
• Making Friends at Stonehenge for the End of the World • Liberty and Lunacy • The Curator of the 'Brooklyn Look' • The 1862 Morrill Act Honored the Liberal Arts As Well as Technical Education • All that Glitters May Not Be Good • Where Anacostia Most Needs a Grocery Store--And Why It Might Not Happen • Destination RVA: Progress Seen on Cheap Hostel • Is Christmas a Pagan Holiday? • Oldest Known Depiction of Pharaoh Found • What I Learned About Beauty from My 56 Hours in Jail • This Year in History: 2012 • Doodles led to high schooler's arrest • Vegan Wine & Kale Bouquets: How to Have the Most Eye-Roll Worthy Wedding Ever The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Snail's ClimbImg: The Telegraph Meg asked: “I know that there are probably a thousand and one influences that made you the person you are today. But who would you say has inspired you the most in the pursuit of your dreams?”
I like snails. Snails are my favorite. I think they are beautiful and resilient, and it’s no coincidence that it’s this creature that taught me to keep going until I reached my goal. When I was 10 years old, I found myself solving a mathematical problem. I don’t remember the exact details, but it went something like this: A snail climbs up a pole at the speed of 1 inch per hour, for 14 hours a day. During the night, it slides back 5 inches. How long will it take the snail to climb up a 5 foot pole? Upon reading it, I immediately felt bad for the snail. It works really hard for those measly 14 inches, but when it snoozes, it looses—literally. It seemed terribly unfair! But as I got deeper into the problem, I’ve discovered that in spite of the nightly setbacks the snail gains the next day—and the next day--as long as it keeps climbing. Moreover, if my calculations were correct, the snail does eventually reach the top! There it was. I may not have been a math wiz, but I understood life and the story of the snail really stuck with me. Sometimes, when I’m up against a big challenge, I imagine myself as that snail, climbing upwards. In that moment I know that in spite of all the mistakes and slip-ups, obstacles and set-backs, I will eventually reach my goal if I just…keep…going. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
New Year's ChallengeDear fledglings,
How many people aim to lose weight in the new year? While we're hoping for a physically healthier, more attractive you, too, we're also hoping that you'll fertilize your mind garden (or insert the metaphor of your choice here.) Make 2013 your year of intelligence, tranquility, creativity, and/or innovation. Of course, that's a broad goal, so shoot for a more specific resolution and you'll be more likely to achieve it. Maybe your 2013 goal is to read 10 books about bonsai trees and raise your first bonsai. Or maybe you want to write and submit your first grant proposal. Or maybe you want to come up with an idea for a documentary and shoot it. Or maybe you want to sign up for a weekly meditation class. Or maybe, maybe, maybe. Whatever the goal, it's yours. Make it meaningful and muster up all of your devotion and confidence. We want all of our Quail Bell(e)s to have sexier minds in 2013—ones that stop traffic! Happy New Year, fledglings! Feathery hugs, The Quail Bell Crew The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Restaurateur? Try Restaurateuse. By Christine Stoddard QuailBellMagazine.com Photo taken by Style Weekly for Deveron Timberlake's story. Imagine owning three booming businesses, marrying an ex-male model, and giving birth to a healthy baby boy—all by age 23. That's the accomplished life of the young and ambitious Thai-American, Holy Yang (pronounced Holly.) “Instead of switching majors, I switch business ventures,” Holy quips of her entrepreneurial whims. Not to call herself fickle, but Holy's business ventures are varied. Two years ago, Holy opened Made in Asia, an upscale Thai and Pan Asian joint in Chesterfield, Virginia that brings urban cool to suburbia. Since then, the full-service restaurant, bar and sushi bar has held benefit nights, hosted concerts and even sponsored a Mrs. Virginia contestant. Take-out and catering services bring the swanky Made in Asia dining experience to the home or office, too. In 2011, Richmond Magazine named Made in Asia the city’s “Best New Restaurant.” At that point, Made in Asia had been open to the public a matter of mere months. Holy didn’t miss a beat. Following Made in Asia’s instant success, Holy jumpstarted her marketing company, Yang Business Services, a firm that designs branding and promotional strategies for Richmond companies. Unsurprisingly, many of Holy’s clients are restaurants, especially the developing and recently established. Perhaps Holy’s most notable client is Bobalicious, the Virginia franchise specializing in frozen yogurt and boba drinks. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Room for RentBy Sorcha Patricks QuailBellMagazine.com Macon Street Books Hey, at least it's cheap.... 7x8” room available in Southwest Washington, D.C. house for $300/month. House is small; could be colloquially referred to as a “shack” or a “real piece of sh*t.” Tiny yard filled with dog turds and poison ivy. Weird redneck neighbors and creepy aging landlord are included free of charge. Our ideal roommate would be a young professional who isn’t too picky about living conditions. Background in pest control highly preferred. Rats and mice are prevalent, but edible and tasty if served in a casserole. Mostly quiet except for the soft whoosh of enormous wolf spiders scurrying across the carpet and the barking of our roommate’s three-legged dog, “Noisy.” A little about us: four of us are relatively normal, and one of us is a raging C-U-Next-Tuesday (depicted above on a good morning). Expect constant bellyaching and the occasional violent kitchen war. Beast can be neutralized by waving stick of butter at it, so must have lard available at all times. We’re in a great location sandwiched between high school of juvenile delinquents and strip malls with mattress marts and cash advance stores. The bus comes by every day except Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. We’re nowhere near a Metro. There are very few crosswalks near our house and people frequently run across the large six-lane route dressed in all black at night. No crime, as no one would reasonably venture into such a dump. But expect teenage hoodlums to bang on your windows when they want a strip show. Hope to meet our next new best friend!!!!! Sorcha Patricks is a Washington, D.C. writer and poet. She is of Irish and Jewish heritage, meaning she can down a bottle of Manischewitz in no time flat. In her free time, she works as a puppy motivation coach and professional tater tot chef. You can reach her at desertponyprincess@gmail.com.
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Pooping in China |
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