As the year winds down, we here at Avidly would like to thank you for your amazing contributions and support and enthusiasm. We’d like to end the semester by looking back at a handful of excellent posts you might like to reread as you decompress from a busy fall. Note that this doesn’t aim to be a “top posts” lists in any way–but, instead, just a look back at some posts we haven’t talked about recently, and that WE SHOULD TALK ABOUT MORE.
We’re taking our normal end of term break, and will resume after the holidays. Stay tuned for more Avidity in 2013.
1: Woman’s Day
“Every time I travel or go grocery shopping, I am inexorably drawn to Real Simple. Those glossy minimalist pages, the assurance that they know which garlic press or espresso maker is the finest, the step-by-steps for cleaning and organizing. I never buy any of the stuff they feature, or do any of the projects, or change my cleaning (non)routine a bit. Well, OK, once I took their tip, which showed up in two issues in a row, to use a binder clip to store my kitchen sponge so it dried on both sides, thereby reducing my chances of Ebola or whatever. It turned out that the binder clip rusted onto the sink’s counter-thingie, leaving a stain that no amount of scrubbing will remove. But my usual course of action is to immerse myself in the magazine, on the theory that reading about, say, maximizing the space in your medicine cabinet is akin to actually doing it….” Read More.
2: Octopuses, not Obsession
August 28, 2012
By Hester Blum
I avidly follow the sketch series Drunk History. From the first sketch I felt that shared recognition, that moment of contact that readers of nineteenth-century literature will know as a constitutive in the genre of the novel.
If you’re not familiar with the Drunk History sketches–a deficiency you should remedy right away–the format is this: for each episode a person gets very drunk and narrates a historical event on film. The facts of the historical event are pretty accurate, if colloquialized. As the drunk storyteller proceeds, his or her narrative is acted out, and lip-synched, by well-known comic actors in period costumes.
What makes Drunk History work is the rigor and investment of the wrecked narrators in telling their stories–this series does not condescend to history. Here’s Drunk History creator Derek Waters on the people who become its narrators: “All the stories they tell, they really love and are excited to tell. Works better that way, rather than some idiot making stuff up…” Read more.