“There are a handful of shows I ask everyone I talk to about television if they have seen: The Wire, Mad Men, Friday Night Lights. But when I ask them if they’ve watched and loved Friday Night Lights, what I mean is are you my kind of person? Are you all heart? Are you bothered by this 21st-century lack of earnestness, our abundance of irony? Do you wonder how we forgive and coach ourselves to do better? How we can strive again for valor and loyalty and daring and redemption?
I fear we are defaulting to needless negativity as some kind of social currency. But Friday Night Lights is the most earnest show I’ve ever watched. Not sentimental, however: these characters aren’t perfect. In fact, this show is incredibly astute at allowing humans to have stratums of complexity: to have character and occasionally act without it, and then to live in the mire of their own dumb choices. Do I adore Coach? Yes. Do I think, as Tammy says, he is a molder of men and a husband of fierce devotion? Absolutely. Do I also think he can also be a self-involved, sexist prick who values his career over his wife’s? No question.
Regardless of the scale of the battle, the stakes in Friday Night Lights are rarely phony or contrived. It’s about winning games, sure, but its scope far exceeds that. This is a show that tests and reflects commitment not just on the football field, but back in the locker room. And in Street’s rehab room, and Saracen’s grandmother’s living room, and Julie’s bedroom, and eventually out to Luke’s farm and Tim’s prison and Tammy’s dream in Philadelphia. This commitment is not about obligation, but something more sacred. Duty. The hidden gale that blusters and grows within us and makes us yearn to give someone else exactly what they need.”
LIFE magazine photographer William C. Shrout attended a dinner of the venerable Anti-Superstition Society of Chicago in 1940. He took pictures of cookies, black cats, ladders, cracked mirrors, and the head of the Chicago district of the Secret Service, Thomas J. Callaghan, inside a coffin:
“At 6:13 p.m. on Friday, the 13th of December, 169 audacious and irreverent gentlemen sat down to dine at 13 tables in Room 13 of the Merchants & Manufacturers Club of Chicago. Each table seated 13. Upon each rested an open umbrella, a bottle of bourbon and 13 copies of a poem called The Harlot. The speaker’s table was strewn with horseshoes, old keys, old shoes, mirrors and cardboard black cats. Before it reposed an open coffin with 13 candles. The occasion was the 13th Anniversary Jinx-Jabbing Jamboree and Dinner of the Anti-Superstition Society of Chicago…[which] meets regularly on Friday the 13th. (There have been 13 Friday the 13th’s in the last eight years.)”
Philadelphia Newspaper Calls Asians “Chinky Winky” and “Dinky Doo”
Publisher Jimmy Tayoun says it’s a “proofreading error.”
In the August 21st print edition of the Philadelphia Public Record, the free weekly tabloid published by former Philadelphia City Councilman turned federal inmate Jimmy Tayoun Sr., current Philadelphia City Councilman Mark Squilla is pictured at an event in Chinatown with, among others, “Chinky Winky,” “Me Too,” and “Dinky Doo.”
“It was a proofreading error,” Tayoun told Philadelphia magazine on Friday afternoon. According to Tayoun, the editor who used those names did so because he didn’t have the actual names. When we pointed out to Tayoun that there were actually more names than there were people, he reiterated, “It was a proofreading error.” And when we asked why the editor didn’t use a generic placeholder instead of an ethnic slur, he insisted that there’s no prejudice or bigotry involved here.
“That editor is a Britisher,” Tayoun explained, puzzlingly. “He didn’t mean anything by it. The Public Record is the most inclusive publication in Philadelphia.”
“It was a proofreading error.” Yes, you just keep repeating that. I guess he means it’s like a spelling or grammar error, but the editor forgot catch all the racist shit before it went to print. Don’t you hate it when that happens?
Feel free to contact Jimmy Tayoun, publisher of the Philadelphia Public Record, with your thoughts:
PHILADELPHIA PUBLIC RECORD 1323 S. BROAD ST. PHILADELPHIA, PA 19147 Tel: 215-755-2000 Fax: 215-689-4099
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Friday tabloid magazine showed a photo of Shirota Yu and Satoh Takeru holding the same kind of pouch/ mini briefcase and they also made a rumor that both have spent together partying the whole night.
Hahaha! In my opinion, can’t that magazine write good articles instead, other than such things? XD Takeru and Shirotan can party the night away anytime they want to. It’s their life and it’s nice to hang-out and unwind with good friends too. It’s no big deal really. XD