This video begins with beautiful nature photography, The suspenseful, heart-stopping chase rivals classic car chases like Steve McQueen’s in Bullitt and Gene Hackman’s in the French Connection. Great storytelling.
“My phone is older than my son. And my son is nine years old!”
I was immersed in my book, but when I heard the ruckus, I lifted my head.
“How do you receive texts?” someone asked.
“I don’t,” she replied. “I have a dumb phone.”
Jennifer Perry had the whole crowd at the hairdresser enthralled. That was the most amazing part— the young women were crowding around Jennifer and jostling for position in order to get a better look at her antique device. Had these women never seen a mobile phone that wasn’t smart?
The Chamber Society of Lincoln Center opened its season tonight. The concert, all Mozart, was as delightful as we have come to expect. But what totally knocked my sox off was a little story in the back of the Playbill.
I was thrilled to read that the buildings on the main campus of Lincoln Center are powered by renewable energy. Avery Fisher (philharmonic), Alice Tully (chamber music), the Film Center, the Lincoln restaurant, the Atrium, all of Juilliard, the heating and cooling plants for the Metropolitan Opera and the other theaters— all these use energy derived from the wind.
Solar panels, which should lower fuel bills further, are due to be installed on the roof of the Rose Building. It is estimated that as a result of these initiatives, Lincoln Center’s CO2 emissions will be more than 100 million pounds less over three years than they would have been with fossil fuel-based electricity.
If this large performing arts complex in the middle of Manhattan can go green, it stands to reason that all new buildings can incorporate similar measures.
It’s ironic that, while we are finding out that inconsequential, even unconscious, revelations we have made online, whether in Facebook or LinkedIn or email, to name just a few places, never die— they live to haunt us forever, but the stuff that we want to remain dissolves in the digital ether.
I’ve recently discovered that the many articles I wrote for Chelsea Now are no longer accessible online. As if they never existed, as if I never wrote them. The bit.ly links I created for articles elsewhere are now dead. The first article I wrote out of J-School, a long piece about Betty Friedan for which I interviewed many interesting and famous people, is nowhere to be found.
Photographs fade, and even CDs and DVDs live only so long on the shelf. Hard drives fail, paper disintegrates — is there any permanence?
By now, everybody knows something about the amazing Malala. All over the world people watched and prayed and suffered with the 14-year-old as she and her medical team fought for her life after she was shot by the Taliban for daring to advocate education for women and girls. By dint of her indomitable will, she survived and wrote I am Malala in defiance of the men who still want to silence her voice. They fear her because they understand that if she prevails they lose their power. Malala knows that education is the best way to fight terrorism and that education of women is essential to combat poverty and the other ills of the developing world.
“Why should I wait for someone else,” she asked, “why should I be looking to the government, to the army that they would help us? Why don’t I raise my voice, why don’t we speak up for our rights?” So she did, and is now the youngest person ever to win the Nobel Peace Prize.
Even if you saw this clip last year, watch it again. It is mind-boggling.
Iranian journalist Masih Alinejad knew that many women in her country chafe under the requirement that they never appear in public without the hijab (head covering). She also knew that many remove their veils not only at home but outside in a field or place where they feel secure. (A woman can be jailed for 60 days or subjected to 70 lashes for appearing without the mandated hijab.)
So Alinejad asked Iranian women whether they had “stealthy freedom,” i.e., felt they could remove the veil outdoors. When she was “bombarded” with selfies of bare-headed Iranian women, Alinejad posted them online, creating a Facebook page for them. The photos were accompanied by simple messages, such as, “I want to feel the wind through my hair” and “We believe in hijab, but we hate compulsory hijab.” Now there are thousands of pictures, even though both Twitter and Facebook are banned. Ironically, the unveiled women are safer in Facebook, seen all over the world, than they are in the streets of their own city. Watch Masih Alinejad tell the story.
I thank journalist and crime fiction writer Naïri Nahapétian for making me aware of Stealthy Freedom when I interviewed her for the forthcoming issue (No. 5) of Noir Nation.
Natasha Del Toro’s investigative piece on Chiquita Banana so impressed me that I have to share it with my readers. She tells a very serious story leavened with her delightful sense of humor.
The Banana Teaser hints at what’s to come: