Anne Elizabeth Moore, former coeditor and associate publisher of Punk Planet and the author of Unmarketable (release party November 4 at the Hideout), has been invited to do a leadership residency in Cambodia by the Harpswell Foundation, an NGO founded by writer and professor Alan Lightman (author of Einstein’s Dreams, among other books). She’s looking for help with the costs, which she details here (h/t Gapers Block).

NewCity profiles her this week. I liked this part:

Also documented in the book is Moore’s latest activist jaunt, when she embarked on a shopdropping (leaving items in a store instead of taking them) trip to American Girl Place. She replaced the “wish cards” the dolls carry with more realistic, sensible requests, like for self-confidence, a healthy body image, effective birth control and free tampons. She was busted, but she held her ground. One cop even told her to “Keep her freedom of speech outside of American Girl Place.”

Lightman, by the way, reads from his new novel, Ghost, Saturday at Columbia College as part of the Chicago Humanities Festival.

Tangentially: I haven’t read Moore’s book yet (currently engrossed in Alex Ross‘s The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century; Ross appears twice in Chicago next week, including a date with WFMT’s great critic-at-large, Andrew Patner), so I have to go by Harold Henderson’s review, but when he writes this . . .

[S]he’s finally reduced to proposing that underground artists produce not ugly, unsellable stuff, but seemingly sellable stuff with just a faint stain or imperfection, “a mark imperceptible to most, and difficult to locate . . . [that] looks very much like everything that surrounds it, until you notice its fundamental difference. And by then you can’t get rid of it.”

. . . I’ll reserve qualitative judgments but simply note that it reminds me of a wonderful post by writer/blogger Roy Edroso on one of the truly great midwestern punks, “Peanuts” creator Charles Schultz Schulz . Edroso writes:

“Peanuts” was able to introduce such ideas and characters to the “family” strip (a genre typified by “Skippy,” one of Schulz’s favorites) for two reasons, one historic, one unique: because comics had always accepted fringe characters (see “Our Boarding House” and “Gasoline Alley”), and because, in a rapidly changing world, unusual ideas would be acceptable if they had a familiar, unthreatening background. Schulz’s formless suburb, and his dot-eyed kids, were as neutral as could be.

Do read the whole thing. You might also enjoy John Updike’s take on Schultz Schulz and “Peanuts.”