ellauri052.html on line 486: Baron Corvo eli Fred Rolfe oli joku seikkailija, homo ennen kaikkea. "My preference was for the 16, 17, 18 and large." Le Corbusier oli homo. Ei sunkaan nää ole kaikki homoja? ml Monet ja Matisse? Sale takuulla oli, ja sen kamu Pierre. Sekin kuzu izeään Prosperoxi niinkuin Puovo Huovikko. Shakespearen Myrsky, sen viimeinen näytelmä, on homoeroottinen, missä vallastasyösty herttua-taikuri junailee enkeli Arielin ja piru Calibanin kaa. Ei kai Paavokin... ei nyt menee jo vainoharhasexi. Mut silti vittu (tai pikemminkin pisinappula), heti perään Salella tulee homotriangeli jossa kaikki kalpenee ja/tai punastuu: Sale, mafioso ja Pierre. Ja TS Eliot taas mainitaan. Kirjailijat immersoituu toisiinsa ja vehkeet sykkii sinipunasina. Ihan mahotonta menoa. Kaikki haukkuu Salea ja syystä, se tuntee izensä pyhäxi Sebastianixi.
ellauri069.html on line 56: The one who kept them all on guard was the father, and he seems to have been a piece of work. Donald, Sr., had studied architecture at Penn, and he was a committed modernist, an acolyte of Setä Mies, Le Corbusier, Saara Aalto, and Esa Saarinen. He designed his own home, including the interiors, and if he couldn’t find something that suited his taste—a rug or a piece of furniture—he manufactured it himself.
ellauri083.html on line 336: For all their profusion, these paled in comparison with Sachs's newest display pieces: The Cabinet, 2014, and The Rockeths, 2017. The former was a folding case fashioned from orange-and-white striped barricades and festooned with hundreds of tools, hung in groups and inscribed with the names of individuals who have "inspired, influenced, or frightened" the artist--from Le Corbusier and Louis Kahn to the members of the Wu-Tang Clan--while the latter was less a cabinet than a kind of portable workbench and shelving unit, similarly jam-packed with the tools of the artist's trade, as well as a collection of model rockets, all again labeled to namecheck various figures of personal importance--scientists, musicians, artists; Apollo, Dionysus, Stringer Bell. The fetishistic frisson the assembled materials (pens, pliers, drill bits, tape measures) clearly provoke in Sachs was made even more explicit in McMasterbation, 2016, one of a trio of scale-model space modules arrayed on plinths. Featuring a copy of the legendarily comprehensive McMaster-Carr hardware catalogue spread open like a porn mag centerfold designed for lonely gearheads--alongside a ready supply of Vaseline and a handy tissue dispenser--it was part cathectic confession of objectophilia and part self-derogating indictment of his own work's tendencies toward sometimes masturbatory excess. Smart and stupid, funny and somehow a bit sad, it was classic Sachs: too much information, in every sense of the phrase.
xxx/ellauri306.html on line 68: Why is Rand a bad writer? Her writing is simply illogical, incomprehensible and blabbering. Her heroes and heroines are but pastiches, cliché-like cardboard figurines. Her world is black and white; either the character is a hero or a crook, but never anything in-between. Moreover, they fail the reality check; Howard Roark of The Fountainhead would not be the heroic creative mind he is represented; the reality check would be a similar megalomaniac sociopath as Le Corbusier.
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