“During the 80s, there were numerous sparky cultural critiques of Margaret Thatcher from the likes of Stephen Frears, Ken Loach and Derek Jarman in film, and from other artists working in other areas, especially in the most successful British cultural form, music. But in the longer term, her effect has been disastrous. Thatcher, like the Queen, is basically vulgar, and has little cultural sophistication or understanding. But unlike the Queen, she actively hated culture, as she recognised that it was a form of dissent. In her policies, she promoted what became known as celebrity culture; this was her celebration of what she thought was an entrepreneurial worldview, which, when mixed with greed, became the narcissism of the present day.
Thatcher had no understanding of what a central place the arts have in British life. Or how good Britain is at producing books, films, theatre and music. She was also a social atomist: she didn’t understand altruism, solidarity and identification with others as a basic part of human nature. Her failure to understand this helped give rise to mass forms of saccharine sentimentality such as that which surrounded the demise of Princess Diana. Solidarity was replaced by sentimentality in British life.”
Hanif Kureishi on Margaret Thatcher via The Guardian
Forgive me for not wasting a single tear on the day of her departure.
Here is a full view of the Grizzly Bear Spring Tour poster.
Where can one buy this from the UK please?
Peter Dinklage Appreciation Moment [photo by Peter Hapak NY Times]
(New Jersey: purveyor of fine individuals.)
Hello, everybody. This is Chad, the guy behind this site. I am coming to all of you today, directly, because A Bright Wall in a Dark Room has arrived at a (very promising) crossroads—but if it’s to go any further, we need your help.
It has been vitally important to me over the years to keep BWDR a clean, ad-free and independent reading experience, and as a result not a single penny of revenue has ever been generated from this site (in fact, I’ve ended up putting my own money into it). Instead, for nearly four years now, BWDR has been an enormous and ever-growing labor of love. I have happily poured thousands of hours of work into this site since we first opened our doors in 2009, and countless others have pitched in behind the scenes as well to help build this site into what it is today: a fiercely-independent, vibrant community of film geeks, artists, and writers. And all that hard work—along with the support of your devoted and passionate readership—has led us to an exciting turning point of sorts. Which is why I’m coming to all of you today, as transparently as possible.
We have been given a rather fantastic opportunity to turn BWDR into a real (but still independent!) online magazine in the very near future, operating under a model that will allow us to not only pay writers a bit for their tireless and amazing work going forward, but will also allow us to deliver to you a vastly superior BWDR experience, in terms of content, design, and readability. It’s an exciting chance for us to turn BWDR into something both more regular (in terms of content delivery) and more real, without having to sacrifice a single ounce of our style, integrity, passion, or dedication to the site’s original mission. But if it’s to work at all—if it’s to even get off the ground—we are going to need some help today.
We have reached a point in the process where we need to generate some funds in order to get the whole thing up and running. Not a lot, by any means, but enough so that it’s a barrier to us moving forward at the moment. And we so badly want to move forward. (Seriously, I wish I could show you right now how amazing a BWDR magazine is going to look; but instead, just trust me—I’ve seen the prototype and it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing).
So here is the part where I ask you for money. Again, not a lot. Any amount—$3, $7, $22, $45—helps enormously, and all the money we are able to raise will go directly toward funding the initial starting costs and overhead of the magazine and its very first issue, which will be available to you, for free, in May.
Let me say that again—any and all money we receive from you will go directly to paying our initial overhead costs (start-up fees and hardware), as well as to paying our (currently unpaid) writers, editors and illustrators (yep, we’re doing illustrations for the magazine!) for all the freelance work we will feature in that very first issue.
Now, I need to be fully transparent here: there will be some further costs down the road. The magazine that we are working to create will eventually become something that we charge a minimal monthly subscription fee for. The first issue will always be free, nothing changes that. But after that, we will only be offering a very limited amount of BWDR’s new content for free on this site each month, with the majority of it being channeled into the new BWDR Magazine. And that magazine—which I can promise you will be lovingly built through tireless amounts of work and dedication on our end—will be available to you for $1.99 each month. In other words, for less than the cost of a cup of coffee. Not because it’s not worth more to us, but rather because it’s deeply important to us to make the magazine available to you at a price that won’t put any real dent in your wallet, but will still allow us to pay both our writers and our bills.
We feel this is an exciting new model and opportunity for all of us—writers and readers alike. A way to prove to whoever’s watching that a thing like this is economically sustainable. That a few passionate people can start a site—simply and only for the love of something and the desire to write about and wrestle with it in unique, personal and interesting ways—and eventually grow that little site into a successful and profitable magazine without an ounce of compromise, outside meddling, or advertising influence of any kind. That freelance writers and illustrators can and should be paid for the hard and brilliant work they do. That a community is willing to support a labor of love like BWDR if they’re approached directly, transparently, and in good faith. That this is a business model that works. That we can do this.
So, please, if BWDR means something to you—if you love it the way we love it—consider a donation to the site today. If you’re someone who reads BWDR on a daily or weekly basis, or perhaps has been particularly moved by an essay or theme week we’ve run, consider throwing $10 or $20 in the coffers. Believe me, it would go a long way for us at this critical juncture. And if you can kick in $100 or more, you’ll get your name listed in that very first published issue, as well as the opportunity to select a film (any film!) that you want to see written about in the second issue.
Or maybe you’re someone who has enjoyed the site a little less often, but still believes in this thing we’re trying to build and want to support that in some real way. Well, for just two dollars—less than a cup of coffee—you can. Two dollars to help support and sustain all of the passion, dedication, late night hours and love that has been poured into this site for nearly four years. Two dollars to keep this place ad-free, independent, and committed to putting out the highest quality content for you that we possibly can. Two dollars to let us know you’re with us on this—and to help us grow and transition BWDR into something truly amazing.
Without you, I don’t know if we can do this. With you, I’m absolutely sure that we can.
Thanks,
Chad Perman, Editor-in-Chief———
If you’re viewing this on tumblr currently: CLICK HERE TO DONATE
If you’re viewing this on the actual BWDR site currently: click on the handy yellow “Donate” button on the left-hand side of this site.
(Either way, the actual donation part of this should take less than a minute of your time.)
Best $10 I spent this week. This is really exciting and you all deserve it. Can’t wait to see the results!
One of the great moments of the history of cinema and my life.
(been there, btw, at Vignamaggio, and re enacted the thing…)
(Source: monkeypuppet)