Yes, yes, Seafair is this weekend, but if you are a parent of a gradeschooler, or a nerd, or both, then there is a much more important event. Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince is playing at the Pacific Science Center IMAX.
Yes, yes, Seafair is this weekend, but if you are a parent of a gradeschooler, or a nerd, or both, then there is a much more important event. Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince is playing at the Pacific Science Center IMAX.
So much for the idea of having separate Costco stores for home furnishings: the company just announced they'll be closing their two home stores in Kirkland and Tempe, Arizona this summer. The whole point of Costco, in our experience, is that all the great wholesale deals are under one roof. We can buy exorbitantly large bags of frozen potstickers, twelve-pound sacks of Jolly Ranchers, the latest Harry Potter book, a new shelving system, a couch, and a diamond tennis bracelet for our beloved, all in the same fluorescent-lit warehouse for cheaper than just about anywhere else, and then we can go home and cry over our debit card balance. Lesson learned, right, Costco?
First of all, let Seattlest be clear up front: we have almost zero respect for Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series. Poorly written, dumb story line, not worth our time. Harry Potter, on the other hand, we loved. A group of opinionated kids at the Seattle Public Library debated the merits of the two series yesterday, and here's the video. Attention, kids: read a lot, frequently, and continue to hone your debate skills--they'll serve you in good stead in MySpace chat rooms for the rest of your lives.
Weirdly, the case of Amazon's disappearing "Buy Now" button does, in fact, have something to do with Harry Potter. But it's more about accounting wizardry than the fun kind.
First of all, we haven't read the book. We've read other Dostoevsky novels, but not this one. On the other hand, we're not stuck in that dreadful Harry Potter situation where we're gonna tell you all the stuff they left out. What they left in is the poverty, fear, gory ax, greed, and other good stuff that makes for theater you leave talking about.
tomorrow night. So excited, in fact, that we thought we'd go to the Google to find out what sorts of happenings are going to, well, happen tomorrow in celebration of the big release.
The seventh and final Harry Potter book comes out this Friday at midnight and OH BOY are we excited.
I love Al Gore and I was really looking forward to seeing him talk at Town Hall on Monday night, but I was under no illusions that I would get to see him announce that he was running for President. I fell for that one before. When Barack Obama came through town on a book tour I got in a blood-boiling, fist-pumping frenzy for some kind of announcement, but what I got was a tepid book tour speech that was more brains than brawn. Same thing Monday night, except this time I knew what I was getting into. Besides, no politician (or “recovering politician” as Gore referred to himself) is going to make a major announcement in the latte-sippin’, Volvo-drivin’, tree-humpin’ Pacific Northwest. Sorry, Seattle.
How do we know? Amazon.com's running a contest. If your town pre-orders more copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows per capita than any other, Amazon will donate $5000 (via Amazon gift certificate) to a local charitable organization.
This week we'd like to congratulate the -ist network's Mother Hen, Gothamist's Jen Chung, who found herself a recipient of Wired Magazine's Wired Rave Award. If that doesn't sound terribly exciting, keep in mind another recipient was J.K. Rowling. Yep, that's right, the -ist network and Harry Potter now have something in common. Go us.
When we asked which Mariner hit the game winning home run on Opening Day in 1986 we felt we had come up with a question that would stump the room. However, when we saw that nearly half teams correctly answered Jim Presley we realized that we weren't the only ones to have their childhood ruined by the boys in blue and yellow.
Writing on The New Republic Online in November, 2006, James Kirchick snarkily commented, "Of all the subjects for a 90-minute, one-woman show, Rachel Corrie ought to have been at the bottom of the list." Rachel Corrie was an Olympia native and Evergreen State College student who, in March 2003, while working with the International Solidarity Movement, was killed by an Israeli bulldozer destroying Palestinian homes. And frankly, before seeing Seattle Rep's production of My Name is Rachel Corrie, we tended to agree with Kirchick, albeit for completely different reasons.
might be the Best Best of the -ists ever. We're exhausted just thinking about it.
International travel is a challenge for a book whore like Seattlest--how many titles can we cram into our carry-on and still have room for at least a few necessary items? (Our journey began before the foiling of the London plot, when we liked to carry toiletries with us in case our checked luggage got lost.) True, we have an iPod and we did load a few goodies of the bookish variety onto it, but in all honesty, the iTunes book offerings are still immensely dissatisfying. And expensive: $50 for the newest Harry Potter, are you fucking kidding?
If you’re like Seattlest, you hate the game, not the playa. If you’re a Seattle City Council member, you heart the homeless, but they tents the live in? Not so much. Councilmembers unanimously approved Harry Potter-esque District 2 council member Bill “Fergie” Ferguson’s proposal to turn closed motels into homeless housing. The “Jumpstart Initiative” is modeled on the Aloha Inn, the Aurora Avenue motel-turned-tent city remedy the city purchased in 1991. That earsplitting sound you hear was Seattlest nearly ripping the Velcro clean off our Trapper Keeper as we rushed to graph the breakneck pace of the council’s progress toward the Ten Year Plan to End Homelessness.
A movie will cost you nearly ten dollars at a theater. March of Penguins at the Guild 45th, for example, will set you back $9. We hear that's something to see. Cheapskates can drive up to the Crest and see second-run films for a three-spot weeks after everyone else, but generally a movie costs you ten in the theater.