Word: fin
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...opera), each show is an apocalyptic circus of startling imagination. Everything is designed to be an illusion--to take you in one direction and then make you refigure (the best example I can think of in "O" has a clown drifting on a raft in an ocean; a shark fin begins to swim around him and he panics; he suddenly calms down, picks up a fishing pole and hooks the fin, pulling it up to reveal a crescent moon which he gleefully hangs in the sky). It's also a decidedly French experience--it's incomparable to anything that...
...mountain, called the Troll Castle, is an unearthly fin of weathered granite that pokes a vertical mile from its icebound surroundings. Only a handful of people knew, or cared, that it existed; fewer still had actually laid eyes on the peak. Alex, Conrad and I were the first who had gone to the trouble to climb it, and the view from the top was ample reward. Countless other rock towers, equally strange and beautiful, rise from the ice in all directions, resembling gargantuan sailboats plying a chalk-white...
Fashion is therefore safe. While many Y2Kers are running around prophesying the end of everything from power grids to rock & roll, the fashion industry has taken on the fin-de-sicle with fervor, dubbing orange the "millennial color" and making fashion picks for the next century. But as the high fashion avant-garde parades forward in full plumage--feather, sequins, fur and leather--many members of the old guard have run for cover. But some, like it-girl Miuccia Prada, were easy converts, spending years preparing for their 15 minutes in the millennial spotlight. Over the last few years, sterile...
...Year's Eve from a monumental letdown, we need to recognize its true ritualistic function. New Year's Eve--and nye-y2k beyond any other--is not a celebration of the future. It's an elegy for the past. As I sit here, on the brink of the fin de millennium, I'm already misty-eyed with nostalgia. I'll miss the 20th century. I really liked it. I liked the abstract art, the 12-tone music, the absurdist theater, the austere furniture, the Manichaean bipolar geopolitics. And so, given my longing for an irretrievable past, I think insularity...
...from one generation of the urbanite species to the next. Unlike their forefather-oppressors, however, the post-yuppies had no outlet for their angst. They couldn't claim a cultural disaffectedness of their own, as Seinfeld and thirtysomething had been there and done that, and made it clear that fin-de-sicle unhappiness on TV was for their generation only; TV twentysomethings were left to stake new claim in another territory, the frothy world of Friends. That's where Kevin Smith stepped in. Taking a cue from Whit Stillman's so-so trilogy of yuppie angst (Metropolitan was delightfully disaffected...