Word: lyricisms
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...Promotion (she namedrops her own design line, L.A.M.B, in as many songs as she can). Perhaps she was shooting for another glitzy trophy to add to her mental collection when she penned the line “This is the most craziest shit ever”: Most Meta Song Lyric Of All Time. It seems fitting; after all, who knows crazy shit better than Gwen Stefani? Her “Rich Girl” video featured pirates. She sampled Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have A Dream” speech. Her shit...
Agustina, like Alexander, sat me down at a special desk and insisted I take a bottle of branded water. Then she showed me hundreds of swatches that ran the gamut of self-consciously bizarre names, from Bitched From the Start (a Patti Smith lyric) to Adlai Stevenson. (J. Edgar Hoover is not the gayest pattern in the store; that would be Curaao.) After considerable deliberation, I went with a pink-and-blue stripe called Equal Rights in a single-button cuff and a dark black-and-blue pattern called Levev in Napoleonic style...
...study in the United Kingdom. As one of 43 students nationwide to win a Marshall Scholarship, she will join six Harvard Rhodes Scholars in the UK next fall. A literature concentrator in Lowell House, Vasiliauskas will study Criticism and Culture in the Faculty of English at Cambridge University. Lyric poetry has been a focus of her time at Harvard, and she used her personal statement in her application to elaborate on the “value of poetry.” “Rational knowledge is insufficient to prevent suffering,” Vasiliauskas said, citing the Holocaust...
...pickpocket with a great eye for fat wallets. But he doesn't add anything. (As TIME Theater critic Ted Kalem said of Cats back in 1982: "You'll leave the theater humming other people's better songs.") That's a shame, because Korie has a knack for clever lyrics; I'd never heard eunuch and Punic rhymed before. For the "Drift Away" bridge he conjures a lovely wistfulness - "Our tete-a-tetes, midnight duets, / Our breakfast tea and toast, / Funny how things that mean the least/ Are what we'll miss the most" - that approaches the pop poetry of Broadway...
...Against the Day weighs just 3 oz. less than my toaster. But my toaster doesn't offer the tantalizing music of Pynchon's voice, with its shifts from comic shtick to heartbroken threnody, its mordant Faulkneresque interludes, its gusts of lyric melancholy blown in by way of F. Scott Fitzgerald, its ecstatic perorations from Jack Kerouac. And my toaster will never lay before me a vision of a world in which technology is stripping away all the ancient, vital magic while shepherding mankind to the brink of destruction. On the other hand, my toaster makes toast, and nothing quite...