
From February.
CONQUER THE WORLD


"Bad-boy oligarch" Mikhail Prokhorov, who at 42 is Russia's fifth-richest man and the country's "most eligible bachelor," is investing $150 million in a new lifestyle media brand called Snob. The brand will include an exclusive social networking site, magazine, and TV station, all aimed at upwardly mobile young Russians.
Prokohorov, who made his fortune by investing in nickel and gold during the 1990s, is a kind of poster boy for the champagne-drinking, Mercedes-driving set that Russians derisively refer to as "new Russians." His motivtion for this project, he says, is to reclaim the word "snob" from its connotations of unearned privilege and make it a kind of rallying cry for Russia's nouveau riche:
"Snob to us means a person who is a 'self-made man', a person who has gained a right to snobbishness," he said emphasizing the main difference with the British meaning which he said referred to inherited wealth.
The Snob media empire aims to focus on "lifestyle features, business news and travel." If Prokohorov's personal hobbies are any indication, the snob lifestyle also includes skiing, art collecting and upscale prostitution rings.
This is from perhaps the most useful blog on the Internet (other than our own).Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov
Dubliners by James Joyce
Our Story Begins by Tobias Wolff
Die Klavierspielerin by Elfriede Jelinek
Light in August by William Faulkner
a few stories by Chekhov
Last Night by James Salter
a book by Stanley Elkin
a few stories by Raymond Carver
a book by E.T.A. Hoffmann
a book by Ilse Aichinger



BRENNAN: John, I’m normally a very calm person. I’m normally easy to get along with and the most difficult thing to do is get me angry.
Finnegan sits up and starts to squirm.
BRENNAN: Do you really want to make all these jokes? It’s not funny after a while. These people want to talk about their suffering seriously. They don’t want to laugh at it. Do you even want to?
FINNEGAN: I tried being serious. Everyone shot me down. They didn’t want to hear about it.
BRENNAN: Because you don’t seem serious. How could you be serious after all these jokes?
FINNEGAN: Father, sir, these jokes help me.
BRENNAN: They don’t help anyone else, John. You should check yourself out of here.
Finnegan looks down at the floor. Brennan sits down and sighs. Everyone is silent.
Laughter is heard in the hallway.
ARNY’S VOICE: That fucker’s funny, I got to give him that.
Arny and Macy burst through the door laughing and bumping each other.
ARNY: Hey, John! I just heard this fucking joke you told Mace! You are a funny fucker!
Finnegan smiles a little but it is obviously forced.
Arny and Macy sit and keep laughing.
MACY: Humping his leg. (whispered)
They continue to laugh and Finnegan is shown looking at Pastor Brennan.
All My Ink
by Ian Singleton
This pen of mine has run out of ink;
there's nothing left, throw it to the floor.
All I can do is sit still and think.
Though what I write down may become rank
I have gobs of saliva to spare
for my pen that has run out of ink.
From my loins I could draw out some gunk
to replenish this valuable store—
all I need do is sit still and think.
On my chair, neck through noose, I could yank
forth desperate gushes of sweat and tear
to fill my pen that's run out of ink.
With blade to wrist at my bathroom sink
I could makeshift a pen to endure
and never have to sit still and think.
As long as the paper is not blank
I'll wring out every bit of my gore.
This pen of mine had run out of ink
I undid all and sat still to think.