Sunday, August 17, 2008
Foreign Concepts
I am watching the women's springboard diving finals from the Olympics right now and I am somewhat surprised at just how boring someone flipping through the air can be. I guess part of it is how fast it goes -- every dive just kind of looks like a blur to me. Also I think my newfound jingoism is playing something of a role; the U.S. women are not exactly tearing it up here. I have decided that all people from other countries are somehow backwards and wrong. Isn't that what the Olympics are all about?
On a similar note, I visited the Art Institute yesterday for a special exhibit of art from Benin. It was all well and good but I felt like a lot of it kind of looked the same. Apparently they didn't have Impressionism and Modernism in Benin. They did have the plus of making a lot of their art out of pretty metals, though, which I appreciate. Matisse didn't work in gold nearly often enough.
On a completely unrelated note, my sister and I are engaged in a battle over the air conditioner. (A "cold war," perhaps? Ha ha!) I like to turn it way up and force her to wander around wrapped in a blanket; she likes to turn it off so I have to sweat it out. I may well have to break her little hands.
I am watching the women's springboard diving finals from the Olympics right now and I am somewhat surprised at just how boring someone flipping through the air can be. I guess part of it is how fast it goes -- every dive just kind of looks like a blur to me. Also I think my newfound jingoism is playing something of a role; the U.S. women are not exactly tearing it up here. I have decided that all people from other countries are somehow backwards and wrong. Isn't that what the Olympics are all about?
On a similar note, I visited the Art Institute yesterday for a special exhibit of art from Benin. It was all well and good but I felt like a lot of it kind of looked the same. Apparently they didn't have Impressionism and Modernism in Benin. They did have the plus of making a lot of their art out of pretty metals, though, which I appreciate. Matisse didn't work in gold nearly often enough.
On a completely unrelated note, my sister and I are engaged in a battle over the air conditioner. (A "cold war," perhaps? Ha ha!) I like to turn it way up and force her to wander around wrapped in a blanket; she likes to turn it off so I have to sweat it out. I may well have to break her little hands.
