Celebrating at the Top

Let's say you had something to celebrate. Plus, there's a perplexingly pulchritudinous person whom you've convinced to participate in the celebration. Pray tell, where should you ponder your recent approbation? To where will you and this prepossessing partridge perambulate to partake in a phial of Champagne?

Well, I might make at least one major recommendation: the Mandarin Sky Lobby. There's a mysterious lounge up there on the 23rd floor masked by massive lenses with magnificent views of Las Vegas. If I may, men go mad for it, and ladies love it.

I was here for Perrier-Jouët, which they graciously serve by the glass, but their cocktail list looked proper, including a section dedicated to tea. The views really are fabulous, or fabuleaux, as they say down the street in Paris. The service, attentive but elegant—not pushy or rushed. A place like this could probably get away with letting some things slide; enough people are willing to pay preciously for the sophisticated vibe and views, so it's a testament to their managerial acumen that there's a high degree of attention to detail and an art to their service.

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A note on parking:
It's easier, in a way to valet at Aria. The Mandarin is a large building, but its decor is somewhat subdued. If you're not familiar with its precise location, park at Aria, which has far easier traffic access from Las Vegas Blvd, IMHO, walk past their gorgeous fountain, follow the little signs, and you'll be in an elevator heading skyward in about 12 parsecs (45 seconds).

Translation Projekt.

I have an ongoing poetic translation project I thought you might be interested in here. It's a Bertolt Brecht poem called Jacob Applebock, or the Lilies of the Field.

A Poem, Some News, the Everlasting Sadness and Anger of Small Animals in the Summertime when It's too Hot to Think.

Genius Laser Star

I have so much hair on my head now

I look like I am a star

on Battlestar Glactica

the one where the Cylons

look like Chevrolets

and everyone smiles a lot

and everyone kind of loves each other.

I want to buy bellbottoms and a laser pistol 

or a ray gun.

The only letter in my mailbox

is addressed to smart consumer.

Inside are dozens of coupons

with pictures of people smiling.

Meat lovers pizza.

Checks with animals on them.

Dog food & free heartworm test.

Laser surgery.

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I finished a big translation project right now.  Brecht's Jakob Apfelböck, oder die Lilie auf dem Felde.  It's pretty awesome.  I think it is some of my best work.  I wish I could post it here, but it is rather image heavy.  I've been working on a new translation theory that I think might change some things in translation or at least get people talking about changing things or at least make some old school translators really angry or at least dismissive. 

Tonight my friend Paul Ebenkamp is reading at CCA in SF around 7:00.  It would be great to see you there, whoever you are.  Please do not bring machine guns.

If you feel like a little torture, you can watch the video of Lunch Poems.  I am at 59:00. 

Translation Station

So, a lot of you don't know this, but I am very much very into translation. It is extremely interesting to me. I have been studying translation theory for some time now, and I like it. German is the language I translate most. My German honors thesis is translation of Brecht using visual illustration techniques. It's pretty great.

Last night I went to a reading of other people who like to translate. They were all in a Robert Hass translation workshop, and it was a pretty good reading. It was a little longer than I had bargained for, but that happens sometimes.

Cameron Jackson read from his French translations of Baudelaire, which were quite good. A young woman who wore a tail read Russian translations, which were fantastic. I don't know everyone's name. Sorry. But there was a guy there, whose name I really wish I had written down, who translated poems into songs, and they were pantagruelianly good.