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My Abusive, Addictive Relationship That I Just Can't Quit

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Laughing Liberally To Keep From Crying
by Katie Halper

I am breaking my silence. I am in an unhealthy relationship. I feel bad, guilty, exploited, used and unethical, addicted and powerless. But I just can't quit it. I keep going back for more. Sure, I get something out of this relationship; I get my fix, I get a jolt, I get a high. I get plugged in, connected. It makes me feel like I'm not alone. But of course, I pay the price for remaining in this relationship. I'm totally, physically, emotionally dependent and need it to even start my day or get through the day.

If I try to stop, I want it more, and crave it more, and need it more. I'm obsessed, and I can't go long without a visit. I see reminders every where I go, on every street corner, practically, of every city, in every country. I feel like I can't escape. This relationship makes me question my judgment and my political, moral, cultural and social principles, commitments, priorities, and values. Why do I go back, day after day? Because I fear that there is no alternative. If I end this relationship, where will I go? There really aren't that many options out there. And I'm always hoping that this time it will be different, that I'll get what I really want. But the song remains the same. Or the songs remain the same. Because Starbucks only plays 10 songs a season. So, in my desperate search for caffeine and wireless, I go back to Starbucks almost every day. And I continue to pay the price, $40 a month for the wireless, $4.12 for every skim-milk, sugar-free vanilla latte.So why, you ask, am I coming forward now? Because I have learned that I am not alone. I had heard whispers about other abusive relationships, abbout union busting, spying, reading e-mails. But now other victims are breaking the silence, coming forward, testifying, engaging in class action law suits in:

# San Francisco, where about 2,500 assistant managers in California allege in U.S. District Court that since 2002 they were forced to work overtime without pay. A hearing on whether to certify the class is April 10. Starbucks had no comment on this case.
# West Palm Beach, Fla., where roughly 900 store managers allege they performed essentially the same duties as baristas and should be paid overtime. A trial in U.S. District Court is expected in late summer or early fall, according to a lawyer for the workers. Starbucks said that by the end of the week it intends to file a motion to dismiss the case.
# San Diego, where a California judge has ruled that the company's tip pool policy violated the state's labor code because "agents" of the company, in this case shift supervisors, were sharing in the tips with baristas.

This inspiring lawsuits have given me the strength to leave starbucks, and this time for good. I won't fall the nice gestures, the kidney donations, the retraining sessions, the 5 cent donations to charity. I finally see Starbucks for what it is: a monster. A greedy, union-busting, pseudo-environmentalist, pseudo-human-rights-defending, generic, mainstream, yuppy, cold, impersonal, fake, corporate monster.

A version of this post originally appeared on Scanner.

If Only He Were Republican, He'd Have Been Promoted

Spitzer had to go! He cheated on his wife!
...just like the GOP Presidential candidate,
who left his 1st marriage for his current one.

But Spitzer paid money for his adultery!
...more like the Senator from Louisiana,
still in the Senate after the DC madam scandal.

But Spitzer's was a big crime!
...though not as big as crimes like
domestic spying, messing with US Attorneys
& misleading our country into war--
which have been punished how exactly?

Yes - Spitzer betrayed our trust,
should've been damn smarter,
& was guilty of hubris & hypocrisy.

If only he were in the Bush administration,
he would have been promoted.

Make sense of Spitzer's double standards
-- & those of the media & the GOP --
while double-fisting a drink & a debate
at your local progressive social club.

DRINKING LIBERALLY
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The Pitfalls of Married Life, or, Breaking Bechdel's Law in Style

Screening Liberally Big Picture
by Josh Bolotsky

I'd like to begin with a brief exercise. (Paper and pencil are not required, although they are recommended.)

Don't worry, we'll get to the review of Married Life, the black-as-night comedy released last Friday, in just a moment, but before we do, we need to establish something first, and quickly.

Ready? Let's begin:

1. Write down the names of every film you remember seeing in the last two months - in the theater, on television, old, new, whatever. You technically only need one, although this works better with more.

2. Cross out every film that did not have at least two significant female characters.

3. Of those remaining, cross out every film that did not feature at least one scene where two female characters spoke to each other.

4. Now, if you have any films left, put a circle around those films where they were talking about something other than a man.

Pencils down.

If you're like me, you love film - love love love it. You try to indulge yourself in a late-afternoon or early morning cinema trip whenever time allows it. But check to see if you aren't given pause when you do this exercise.

Consider this - I've written full-length reviews for seven films at OpenLeft.com, with a smattering of shorter reviews here and there. Of those seven films, five fail this particular test - The Candidate, Rendition, The Kingdom, I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry, and No End In Sight - and two pass it - Margot At The Wedding (in which Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh talk about their frayed relationship), and The Mist (in which Laurie Holden and Marcia Gay Harden talk about the monster.) This is, for Hollywood films, a pretty good batting average, which is really saying something.

Alas, I can't take full or even partial credit for the exercise. The original concept is called Bechdel's Law or the Bechdel Test - the name refers to Alison Bechdel, the creator of the long-running strip Dykes To Watch Out For, who first introduced this idea in this 1985 installment:

bechdel.jpgNow, let me be clear: I do not believe that every work can or should meet the requirements of Bechdel's Law. In fact, I think it's often a lot less useful to apply to an individual film than as a tool for looking at the aggregate - as in a lot of things, it's often less the individual choice than it is the sheer ubiquity of the overall pattern. And like a lot of general principles, there are exceptions - one such exception occurs to one towards the end of Married Life, a film which totally flunks the strict outline of Bechdel's Law.

Well, less an exception than a proposed addendum: it can be broken with impunity if the film satisfactorily explains, explicitly or implicitly, why it's being violated. Under this critera, Married Life passes with flying colors.

Harry Allen (Chris Cooper), a milquetoast business executive living in a highly stylized version of early 50's city life, is a man with a surplus of potential confidantes. His wife, Pat (Patricia Clarkson), shows him no end of expressed affection; his best friend, Richard (Pierce Brosnan), is almost a parody of the professional bachelor best friend with whom such nebbish characters are supposed to share their wildest plans; and his mistress, Kay (Rachel McAdams) is the very picture of a demure, pre-Friedan vision of womanhood, always willing to listen, too afraid of burdening to ever share much of anything.

Harry, it turns out has a lot to confide. As he tells Richard at the film's beginning, he is planning to leave Pat. Richard, dumbfounded at the dissolution of a marriage that appeared rock-solid, asks why on our behalf, and Harry divulges - Pat is just too focused on sex, and that will not do.

His new mistress, Kay, on the other hand, doesn't seem to care much for sex, but loves him for who he is, never questioning him, always listening to him expound upon this or that topic. (That this is because Kay never lets herself question or say much about anything goes unnoticed by Harry, but not by the film.) Just as he's explaining to Richard how he is scheming to leave Pat for Kay, Richard begins silently scheming how he's going to "steal" Kay.

And so the heart of the film begins - we'll spend the next two hours examining each man's machinations, machinations which take on a Hitchcockian tone as they run through a gamut that includes betrayal, deception and potential homicide. The key phrase being "each man's machinations" - neither of the two female characters is up to any scheming of their own, partially because they're not flagrantly unethical, partially because they're not in a world that allows them to exhibit much agency.

I love it when films make you feel like you're given a pair of binoculars peeking into another time or place. The set design and costuming of Married Life is so perfectly tuned to give a certain sense of nostalgia, of an idealized post-war aesthetic, that we are particularly shocked and our nostalgia dashed when it forms a backdrop for the heartbreaking portrayals of Kay and Pat. In one scene, Pat's golden retriever, the only real companion she has left in her lonely life now that Harry is drifting apart, has died in the night. Throughout the pet's burial, in which Harry is brusque at best, the obviously devastated Pat has to keep up the veneer of what a housewife is supposed to do - being gracious to the point of absurdity, always using the proper phrasing, and so on.

It is in this scene that it hits us the hardest - Married Life is quite aware that it is depicting a world in which women, painfully, are allowed no public display of agency. The point is only driven home later in the film, where we learn that Pat has a few secrets of her own - secrets she can't share because, well, that wouldn't look right. In fact, the vast majority of dialogue uttered by either Clarkson or McAdams is either a. about a man, or b. a required nicety - even if a heartfelt nicety, it is nonetheless required.

It is only towards the end of Married Life that the two female characters get a chance to talk to each other, and very briefly - and then, it's about a man who is getting married. We can hardly begrudge them this. After all, it's all they're allowed to talk about.

When Prison Builders Become Prison Profiteers

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Reading Liberally Page Turner
by Amanda Milstein, Living Liberally

A friend said Hi to me on the subway while I was reading Prison Profiteers, an anthology of shocking articles about the privatization of prisons edited by Tara Herivel and Paul Wright. I had to send him an e-mail explaining that if I had looked like I was about to throw up it was not because of him, but rather because I was totally and utterly disgusted by the account I was reading about medical conditions going untreated in prisons managed by private corporations.

The paragraph I was reading when my friend saw me was about the medical neglect of a 57 year old man who was imprisoned for rape:

David stood now to show me the belly and the hernias, the condition his body had arrived at through an utter lack of attention… His belly was enormous, taut and pasty, seemingly glued to his gaunt frame. At the front of it, a hot-pink hernia, about the size of a grapefruit, seemed barely attached where the belly buttons should have been, giving David's midsection the overall contour of a giant breast and nipple…

…To describe David's scrotum as swollen and red would be a failure of language. It was about the size of a rugby ball, so raw and irritated, shiny and crimson, that it almost seemed to be covered with blood. David hung his head. "They give me aspirin," he said.

Later, when I heard that David had died of indeterminate causes and that his body had been cremated, I realized that I had probably been the last person outside the prison staff to see David alive, to see what his body had become from all those years of mistreatment, and I wondered: can such a secret be kept?

A rapist, David might not be the most sympathetic of criminals — but no one deserves to be forced into an environment where their medical needs will not be met. Furthermore many of those receiving atrocious care are not rapists, but drug dealers or minor criminals, who have not been sentenced to death or illness by neglect. Medical neglect is not the only problem faced by prisoners—in the United States prisons are often run by corporations who put the bottom line ahead of prisoner safety, the security of the general population, and pretty much everything else.

We now live in a country where one out of a hundred adult Americans is currently in prison. Prison Profiteers describes a system where corporations have significant control and very little accountability to the public—where a prisoner's spider bite can go untreated until his foot requires amputation due to lack of antibiotics, where medical appointments are deliberately scheduled on court dates, and when sometimes the only way to a safety and job training is to join a Christian missionary group, and where prisons have particularly high phone rates that can financially destroy family members with whom they are trying to stay connected.

I have been able to talk about little else but prison reform since finishing this book — my desire to discuss it with one friend was so great that I shipped him a copy even though he lives in England. As progressives we talk a lot about the need for healthy food for children, welfare benefits, and a living wage—but we also need to be talking about issues that impact the 1% of American adults that are incarcerated, and why our government is farming vital work out to corporations who seem to be doing a terrible job of it.

The Explosive Truth About Twinkies, The Industrial-Strength Snack Cake

Eating Liberally Food For Thought
by Kerry Trueman

There are simple carbohydrates, complex carbohydrates, and then there’s the Twinkie, made from military industrial-complex carbohydrates. It’s got some of the same ingredients as tracer bullets and artillery shells, as I learned from reading Steve Ettlinger’s Twinkie, Deconstructed.

Ettlinger’s book, just out in paperback, documents the 39 ingredients it now takes to make a Twinkie, many of them minerals and chemicals, some derived from crude oil. This petroleum-based pastry is about a million food miles removed from your grandma’s yellow sponge cake, which had a shelf life of maybe two days, max.

Today’s Twinkie, on the other hand, stays frighteningly “fresh” for an unnaturally long time (officially, 25 days, but we all know it’s really more like 25 months.) Real butter turns rancid too fast, so the Twinkie gets its butter-like taste and texture from petrochemical-based ingredients like diacetyl, a close cousin to acetylene welding gas, and butyric acid, a flavor which Ettlinger gleefully informs us is “a natural component of Parmesan cheese, rancid butter, and, unbelievably, vomit and perspiration."

Twinkie, Deconstructed may amaze and appall you, but the fact is that while a Twinkie is not particularly good for you, it’s not all that bad for you, either. It’s just an amalgam of industrial ingredients and artificial flavors posing as an actual pastry. How did we ever fall for this oily oblong cake with the mystery “cream” filling?

Take a trip down Madison Avenue’s memory lane via YouTube with the classic seventies Twinkie ad at the top of this post and you'll find out. Watch the housewife-on-a-budget vow that no matter how tight money gets, she’ll never deprive her kids of “fresh, wholesome” Hostess Twinkies, because “you can’t skimp when it comes to your children.”

Fast forward to this series of Flickr photos taken last month entitled “It’s What’s For Breakfast,” in which a visibly disgusted mom in Portland, Oregon documented five days of the hot "food" served free to kids at her local public school in the morning before school. Stuff like “Bagel-ers,” which are some kind of bagel and cream cheese concoction, and a pancake-sausage-breakfast-sandwich that “tastes like sugar,” and a cereal bar made of whole grain oats glued together by “corn syrup, sugar, high fructose corn syrup. . . followed by a long list of other ingredients most of them with names only a chemist would understand.”

Or Steve Ettlinger. Twinkie, Deconstructed is not a Fast Food Nation/Omnivore’s Dilemma-style indictment of our food chain; it’s a science writer’s agenda-free foray into the peculiar world of processed foods, an odyssey Ettlinger embarked on in response to his daughter’s innocent question, “Daddy, what’s polysorbate 60?”

After reading Twinkie, Deconstructed I have a better understanding of what goes into the “cakelike cylinders (with creamlike fillings) called Twinkies that never grow stale,” as Michael Pollan describes them in In Defense of Food.

What I don’t understand is why our agricultural policies continue to promote these “edible foodlike substances” (Pollan's words, again.) It’s bad enough that your tax dollars are paying for all those amber waves of grain that get turned into nutritionally bankrupt foods and environmentally disastrous biofuels. But did you know that the USDA actually penalizes commodity crop growers who want to replant their fields with fruits or vegetables?

I didn’t, until I read Jack Hedin’s op-ed in last Saturday’s New York Times. Hedin, a small organic vegetable farmer in southern Minnesota, reveals that, at a time when farmers’ markets are popping up all over the country to meet the growing demand for fresh local produce, the USDA is working “deliberately and forcefully to prevent the local food movement from expanding.” Why in the world would they want to do that? Hedin explains:

Because national fruit and vegetable growers based in California, Florida and Texas fear competition from regional producers like myself. Through their control of Congressional delegations from those states, they have been able to virtually monopolize the country’s fresh produce markets.

The USDA actually fines farmers who have the audacity to switch from growing commodity grains to, say, melons or tomatoes, as Hedin learned the hard way. Talk about passive/aggressive. The USDA’s telling us we’ve got to eat more fruits and vegetables even as it’s thwarting the efforts of small family farmers to help us do just that.

At a time when Michael Pollan and those Skinny Bitches are convincing this nation of meatheads that a plant-based diet is better for us--not to mention our fellow creatures and the planet--our government is in cahoots with Agribiz and Big Food to keep us hooked on a chemical plant-based diet. And that’s a shame, because the epidemic of diseases caused by our Western diet poses a far greater threat to mankind than Middle Eastern terrorists.

Joe Wilson went off to Niger in search of “yellow cake” and came up famously empty-handed in the fiasco we’ve come to know as “PlameGate.” Little did he know we’ve got a yellow cake-based weapon of mass destruction right here at home.

Originally posted on TakePart.com.

Shooting Liberally Takes Aim At Change

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Drinking Liberally Shot of Truth

A month ago, we told you about the inaugural meeting of Shooting Liberally which would be coming up later that day. Well, the second meeting of Shooting liberally NYC is coming up (next Tuesday, in fact), and we wanted to report back to you on the first Shooting Liberally in the Empire State - what happens when a group of Manhattanite liberals bond over progressive politics and shooting ranges?One novice, Tim, summed it up this way:

A good time was had by all. Especially, it seems, by the ladies.

Which hints at an important aspect of the chapter - of the sixteen spaces we reserved at the range, a healthy majority were taken up by women. When Shooting Liberally was not busy shooting down bullseyed targets, they took turns shooting down gender stereotypes.

Gender stereotypes weren't the only stereotypes that we took aim at, however - we also took aim at political stereotypes. Scott explains:

It felt quite odd at first, since the shooting range not only had many posters with sayings like, "Guns don't kill people, bullets kill people," and "Forget 911--I dial .357," but also a portrait of George W. Bush proudly displayed over the cases of ammunition in the office. Also, the heavy report of high-caliber handguns being fired in the range couldn't help but make you jump.

John, the safety instructor, had enough tattoos to moonlight at Coney Island, but he was friendly and patient and thorough. He sat all 16 of us in school desks in a side room to run us through weapon handling procedures. Then he handed out rifles to everyone. It was quite something to see a bunch of people who looked like they were in study hall, brandishing weapons.

Despite pre-game jitters, once on the range with the smell of gunpowder the card-carrying progressives took to it like fish to water. The women in the group were especially keen. Two or three ran through their clips of fifty rounds in no time and came out to buy more.

Afterward, we compared our paper targets and, surprisingly, most everyone had grouped their shots tightly in the center. It was exhilarating.

We all agreed that we had to do it again. And though we didn't talk about it much, I think we all felt better able to hang onto our democracy.

Which brings up an interesting issue - all of our Shooting Liberals are no slouches to the second word in the name. These are real lefties, and that includes believing in sensible gun control as well as responsible gun ownership. However, the last time we posted on this topic, we got a fair amount of comments from folks whose view of the 2nd amendment has changed a bit due to the radical nature of the Bush administration. Do you in the comments have any thoughts on this matter?

Our Pharmaceutically-Fouled Water Supply

My dad installed a reverse osmosis water filtration system in our house decades ago for religious reasons; as a Christian Scientist, he objected to the City of Los Angeles imposing its “medicated”—i.e. fluoridated---drinking water on us.

Looks like you were ahead of your time, Dad! The Associated Press has just released the results of an investigation showing that:

A vast array of pharmaceuticals -- including antibiotics, anti-convulsants, mood stabilizers and sex hormones -- have been found in the drinking water supplies of at least 41 million Americans…

…How do the drugs get into the water?

People take pills. Their bodies absorb some of the medication, but the rest of it passes through and is flushed down the toilet. The wastewater is treated before it is discharged into reservoirs, rivers or lakes. Then, some of the water is cleansed again at drinking water treatment plants and piped to consumers. But most treatments do not remove all drug residue.

And while researchers do not yet understand the exact risks from decades of persistent exposure to random combinations of low levels of pharmaceuticals, recent studies -- which have gone virtually unnoticed by the general public -- have found alarming effects on human cells and wildlife.

I blogged about this problem a year and a half ago in a post called “Sexually Confused Fish Popping Up In The Potomac,” about another AP report citing concerns that these “endocrine disruptors” were suspected in a dramatic rise in malformed male fish found in DC waterways. In that post I noted that:

Back in 1996, The EPA identified endocrine disruption as one of its top six research priorities, but ten years later, according to Newsday, the EPA has yet to begin testing any candidate chemicals for their endocrine-disrupting potential.

So, what’s the EPA’s reaction to the AP’s latest findings?

''We recognize it is a growing concern and we're taking it very seriously,'' said Benjamin H. Grumbles, assistant administrator for water at the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

Grumbles--great name for a guy whose primary duty probably involves a lot of fancy foot-dragging.

While the pharmaceutical industry is insisting, by and large, that this contamination of our water supply is not a cause for worry, the AP quotes Mary Buzby, director of environmental technology for drug manufacturer Merck, as saying ''There's no doubt about it, pharmaceuticals are being detected in the environment and there is genuine concern that these compounds, in the small concentrations that they're at, could be causing impacts to human health or to aquatic organisms.''

Americans are ingesting prescription drugs at record rates, but that’s not the only source of contamination. Veterinary drugs used to treat our pets for “arthritis, cancer, heart disease, diabetes, allergies, dementia, and even obesity,” and drugs used to treat livestock, are a factor, too, according to the AP. And the problem’s not limited to surface waters, either:

…Pharmaceuticals also permeate aquifers deep underground, source of 40 percent of the nation's water supply. Federal scientists who drew water in 24 states from aquifers near contaminant sources such as landfills and animal feed lots found minuscule levels of hormones, antibiotics and other drugs…

…Water sampled downstream of a Nebraska feedlot had steroid levels four times as high as the water taken upstream. Male fathead minnows living in that downstream area had low testosterone levels and small heads.

Maybe it’s time for the researchers to stop focusing on male fathead minnows and start taking a closer look at how all this stuff is affecting two-legged male fatheads. In the meantime, the beverage industry is ramping up production of “enhanced” bottled waters fortified with all kinds of supposedly nifty nutrients. Save your money, folks! Take it from the tap—apparently, it’s got traces of every prescription drug you could possibly need, and then some. Unless, of course, that’s against your religion.

Originally posted on TakePart.com.

 

The Greenhorns: A New Breed Of American Idol?

While some of us moan and groan about the unmitigated awfulness of industrial agriculture and our craptastic food chain, others are literally sowing the seeds of an agrarian revival. The idealistic young farmers and gardeners fueling this ag-revolt have been christened “The Greenhorns” by one extraordinary, exuberant young farmer/filmmaker, Severine von Tscharner Fleming, who’s documenting their horticultural heroics in a film by the same name.

America’s got more prisoners than farmers these days, and the average age of the farmers we do have is over sixty years old. Strip mall sprawl has displaced the small family farmers who once nourished our nation. Monocrop madness is sucking the life out of our precious topsoil, poisoning our air and water, and giving us really lousy food, to boot.

But Severine sees salvation in the Greenhorns:

We young farmers are an emergent social movement. We exist. There are a lot of us from coast to coast, and all sorts of unexpected places between—all over the world. We are serious, and if there were about 20 million of us, we could probably feed the whole United States.

My premise is simple. If I can make a movie showing you what is possible, introduce you to these myriad rockstars, I believe I can inspire more of my generation to become farmers. Our job in this generation is to rethink, recycle, retrofit and restore our land and our community; the Greenhorns have come to this revelation and taken action.

This film is a way to convene a movement that is for now quite thinly spread out on the ground. Population density of young farmers might be as low as 1-2 per county in America. Yet, once seen as a whole in the film, you will find it an attractive and coherent sub-culture: proud, strong, tough, and a little bit nuts.

Actually, that description sounds a bit like Severine herself; she’s thrown herself into this project with a passion, but no deep-pocketed patrons to finance the film. So right now she and her feisty team are scrambling to scrape up a few thousand dollars to finish a short version of The Greenhorns to submit to Slow Food on Film’s International Festival this May in Bologna, Italy.

We watched the trailer last night at a fundraiser for The Greenhorns held in a perfectly pastoral Brooklyn loft full of biodynamic young movers and shakers who shared with us their lovingly prepared local food. They are “onto something good, and real,” as Peter Hale, one of the film’s fundraisers and host of the party, said.

And essential, I'd add. Sadly, Matt and I had to leave before they broke out the s’mores made with homemade graham crackers, but we headed back to Manhattan heady with hope that Severine and her Greenhorns could lure a new generation back to the land to reclaim our food chain.

With dwindling resources, global food shortages, climate change, and the triple threats of peak oil, peak soil, and peak water nipping at our heedless heels, industrial agriculture is becoming a “luxury” we can’t afford.

What we have come to call “conventional” farming is, in fact, a total aberration from the way food was produced the world over for centuries. The UK’s Soil Association policy director Peter Melchett decried “the malign influence of an unthinking worship of technology” at a lecture in London last year:

“I am convinced that the era of industrial and intensive farming will be seen as a brief blip, a wrong turn, from which we hopefully recovered fairly quickly…

…The evidence shows that we will have to make radical changes in the ways in which food is produced and distributed to meet the challenges of climate change...

...If climate change has one positive lesson for us, it is that we can't conquer nature. We are part of, not superior to, or in charge of, the natural world.

This is a lesson that Agribiz advocates have yet to learn, but while they’re busy cloning cows, shoving bogus bio-tech breakthroughs down our throats, and declaring dominion over the American dinner table, Severine and her merry band of urban and rural rebels are plotting to overthrow King Corn and declare our independence from industrial agriculture. You’d better hope this revolution takes root, because we are dying for a better way to live in this country.

Originally posted on TakePart.com.