With a flap of pink-flamingo wings,
whoosh of speedboats in the bay
the rear-swinging amble of
burnished girls in bikinis
“Miami Vice” launched itself
week after week
as a thoroughly ****** delight.
The show:
a pop-culture event
the media poetry
of the ******* era.
Two cocky
not very talented
male beauties who
spoke in innuendos
and dressed in pink T-shirts
Armani and sockless loafers.
The best episodes
were shot and
cut like movies and
glowed with neon and
pastels and
party lights in stucco mansions.
The varieties of pleasure under
an endless American sun.
(From the New Yorker article entitled, “Hot and Bothered.”)
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
With a flap of pink-flamingo wings,
whoosh of speedboats in the bay
the rear-swinging amble of
burnished girls in bikinis
“Miami Vice” launched itself
week after week
as a thoroughly ****** delight.
The show:
a pop-culture event
the media poetry
of the ******* era.
Two cocky
not very talented
male beauties who
spoke in innuendos
and dressed in pink T-shirts
Armani and sockless loafers.
The best episodes
were shot and
cut like movies and
glowed with neon and
pastels and
party lights in stucco mansions.
The varieties of pleasure under
an endless American sun.
(From the New Yorker article entitled, “Hot and Bothered.”)