Life, liberty and...you?
What happened to "the pursuit of happiness"? Why is that not a part of all this?
Is this all Philadelphia has to offer? That stupid cracked bell? After all these years?
I am from this old city. I was born in the tiny western town of Chambersburg but my whole family is from this city. Born and raised. It's a good city, oft-underappreciated, with great culture, a laid back, and sometimes edgy, style that's warm and welcoming as well as surprisingly cool and mysterious. I love Philadelphia. Love the place. There is a lot to love about it. You can find anything you need, more than you might expect, and, of course, things you don't ever want to find, either.
Like any great city, it's always about ever-present Descartian dualities, and a dose of Spinozan determinism that makes being there so electrifying. Maybe that's just me and my sophomoric (literally) outlook on things, pontificating here for my own amusement. I thought I might once be a Philosophy major in college because I found myself sitting in class listening to one of many lectures on these great thinkers and meanwhile my mind had escaped the confines of that little, flourescent-lit room to float out of myself in a way I'd never known in my life and to explore nature, the universe and the notion of god. And it is probably there, in that small midwestern town of Lake Forest, Illinois that my taught beliefs and all that newfound exposure to an entirely new realm of possibility led me to question every fucking thing I would ever see, feel or hear ever again.
Everywhere I've lived since that time has been put to this existential test. And I can tell you, my friends, that Philadelphia passes with flying colors. Old places have housed old souls, many of them, and those energies are still there, in all their sickness and health, in all their doing and non-doing. And when you're there, if you listen, if you look, if you touch, you will hear, see, and feel just about everything. Great places possess this. And those dualities of good and bad are held together. And fate is a key player. Like you were just meant to be there for some reason.
Ah, Philadelphia.
Unfortunately, I have been attacked for the unsportsmanlike conduct of voracious Eagles fans (batteries embedded in snowballs and thrown is not something I condone) and my animal lover reputation has been called into question for defending Andy Reid's decision about Michael Vick. Tony Dungy says he's ok. I like Tony Dungy even if he is a god-fearing man. Tony Dungy says he's ok, alright by me.
Remember, before you pass judgement: Second chances are one of the best things about being a human being.
Philadelphia. This is a good place (and even a great place, really) so let's get back to the subject at hand:
It is a place definitely deserving of a better logo. That'd be a nice start anyway.
I was listening to NPR last night and the genuis that is Tom Ford, fashion designer and now film director, was explaining, very eloquently, about how everything in our globalized world has become "branded" to the point of insanity. And the point of non-impact. We're all just a bunch of copycats, following each other's trends and fads around the world.
In this case, however, oh thee rare and unbranded Philadelphia, you are in so much need (you always have been, it seems, stuck between New York and DC) of an identity that does you justice. An identity that tells all your stories in one quick glance. One quick glance that makes people want to pack their bags and book a ticket to meet you.
Now that would be something to see. Hear. Feel.
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