Then you’ll like Anitra L. Freeman’s “Homeless Declaration of Independence.”

…jump start the economy? Felix Salmon sez, “Pay the Artists!”

Celebrity can be a fickle thing. So can typecasting. Fawcett was only on Charlie’s Angels for one season, 22 episodes (plus a three-episode return in the show’s fourth season). Yet that one role, and the accompanying glamour-image marketing, established her celebrity persona for life. From serious film roles to two Playboy appearances, nothing she did since overcame that initial inconography of the nipples, the teeth, and especially the hair. Only her slow, very public death did that.

…victims of discrimination by female theater-company managers?

…there’s still one corporate art collector still anxious to buy stuff–the Ripley’s Believe It or Not museums.

…ends this Friday. Does anyone care? This guy does.

I’ve got another piece on Seattle PostGlobe. It’s about the folks who really, really love the Film Festival.

Remember, gang: PostGlobe is not the downsized version of the old P-I Web site. It’s an all-new local news site started by P-I refugees. And it could use your suggestions and your support.

Back in the days of vinyl and even beyond, the University District was the record-store capitol of the region. That’s where such once-mighty industry players as Budget Tapes & Records, Discount Records, Tower, Peaches, and The Wherehouse all purveyed the big (later little) plastic discs bearing assorted types of beautiful noise.

That era ends this month. That’s when the District’s last specialty new music store, Cellophane Square, gives up the good fight it’s fought since 1972.

At its original location on NE 42nd, and later in more spacious digs on upper University Way, Cellophane Square was a lot more than a retailer. It was a community center, a hangout, an information exchange.

This was particularly true during the 1979-91 era of the punk underground, when Seattle’s civic cultural establishment sneered at any musical act younger or flashier than the Eagles. Cellophane Square was where we learned which bands were touring, which bands were breaking up, and which bands needed a new drummer. It was where we got the domestic zines and the UK music mags. It was where we got those oh-so-rare (even then!) import-only releases by American bands.

There will still be a few new CDs at the University Book Store, and a lot of used discs at 2nd Time Around. But the scene just won’t be the same.

• Joel Connelly doesn’t like the idea of still more street construction in Belltown, worrying that all these closed lanes and parking spaces could fatally disrupt business, especially if Nickels’s “park boulevard” idea (reducing Bell Street to one lane of traffic and plaza-izing the rest) goes through. I believe if Bell’s gonna be revamped, it might as well be done now, while all this other work is already going on on or near it.
• Our favorite expert on the domestic automotive collapse, Michael Moore, says good riddance to the old General Motors. (Say, since we the U.S. taxpayers now own the company, let’s bring back the Geo! And let’s make us some of those hi-speed passenger trains, too, OK?)
• As the Chase-ification of Washington Mutual nears completion, a lot of WaMu ATM cards have stopped working. The possible culprit: Chase’s deal to switch WaMu’s debit card handling services from MasterCard to Visa.
• Seattle Business Monthly depicts the Seattle Times-owning Blethen family as a dysfunctional clan worthy of soap-opera depiction.
• Our pals at the local news site PubliCola have some real investment behind them now, thanks to Greg Smith, the real estate developer who almost ran for mayor this year. Yeah, he almost ran against Greg Nickels, for whom PubliCola cofounder Sandeep Kaushik now does campaign PR.
• And the equally fine folks at another local news site, Seattle PostGlobe, have published another photo essay by yr. intrepid c’r’s’p’n’d’t. It’s all about the demise of the Summit K-12 alternative public school.

…got to pout n’ protest against California’s supreme court when it upheld that state’s anti-gay-marriage initiative.

As I wrote here last fall, it’s always fun to snipe about the state that thinks it’s so superior to the rest of us.

(Of course, longtime readers know that when I snipe at Calif., I also snipe at people here whose only idea how to improve Wash. is to blindly copy everything that’s been done there.

As if everything done there would always work here.

As if everything done there even worked there.)

But, as speakers at Tuesday’s Westlake Park rally asked, why don’t all these local protesters do more to get legal gay marriage in this state?

Well, some are.

We’ve now got the great compromise that is “civil unions.”

(And as one Daily Kos diarist put it, Tuesday’s Calif. ruling seems to pave the way for a similar compromise there.)

But plenty of activists insist that “the legal equivalent of marriage under another name” just ain’t the same thing as marriage.

And they’re right.

…these online “abstracts” of New Yorker articles better than the articles themselves.

…his own personal bogeyman to blame for all the warmongering waste and fiscal foolishness of the Bush era. It’s the nation’s top universities, with their “culture of selfish, cutthroat behavior.”

I’m not so sure myself. Yeah, rich-kid campuses have lots of maturity-challenged spoiled brats running around, imagining that they can do any damned thing they want to and to hell with the consequences. But the whole of our civic culture’s been like that lately. There’s no one real place where it started. And it can only end with individuals demanding, and living, a better way.

Item: Mary Kay Letourneau and her grownup boytoy Vili Fualaau will cohost a “Hot Teacher” night, this Saturday at the Fuel sports bar in Pioneer Square.

Comment: What, that guy’s old enough to be in bars now?

In an effort to drag this site kicking and screaming into the current century, I’ve attained a mobile wi-fi device. If I learn to use it efficiently, more remote and “liveblogging” entries may appear here in the near future.

…a whiff of the jargon, but it’s nice to know somebody acknowledges the existence of “Pacific Northwest English.”