Strip tease: A panel from artist Robert Berry’s forthcoming webcomic adaptation of Ulysses.

PW's Picks For The Week

Bloomsday at the Rosenbach, Philadelphia GameRoom Expo, Art for the Cash Poor 6 and Bloomsday.

Bloomsday 2008

It took me a while to realize Bloomsday 2008 was a celebration of James Joyce’s Ulysses and not a chance for disgruntled English majors to swap horror stories. I had to carry to class a 1,000-page book that helped explain the 800-page novel I was reading. And I still had no idea what I was reading. For the past 16 years the Rosenbach Museum has hosted a block party-style soiree to celebrate the book many consider the greatest English novel of the 20th century. Bloomsday (June 16) is the day the novel’s protagonist Leopold Bloom wanders around Dublin; think of it as a modernist 24. Not to ruin the read, but the entire novel takes place that one day. At the celebration famous Philadelphians including Gov. Ed Rendell, author Ken Kalfus and my writing crush, Inquirer architecture critic Inga Saffron, will take five-minute turns reading from the museum’s steps. Attendees can also check out the museum’s exhibition “Picturing Ulysses,” which displays Joyce’s original manuscript and his drawings and illustrations that accompanied the text. It’s an honor that Philadelphia houses the original manuscript of such an important book. Come spend a day in Dublin, 1904. They’ll even read the parts originally considered obscene. (Jack Schonewolf)

Philadelphia GameRoom Expo

Like a massive postmodern garage sale, the Philadelphia GameRoom Expo is the only place you can find a Ms. Pac-Man machine wedged next to slot machine from the 1930s. While the Expo showcases modern coin-operated machines, its hook is the impressive collection of penny-arcade style machines including jukeboxes, pinball machines, slots and soda machines. There’s even an antique Sunoco gas pump from the days of the pre-inflated price per gallon. (Dan Vidal)

Art for the Cash Poor

When the crap that hangs at Starbucks goes for $5,000, you know we’re in trouble. It seems nearly impossible for normal people to own real art. Enter Art for the Cash Poor. AFTCP annually brings Philly artists and art lovers together for a weekend of art, commerce and partying. About the party, InLiquid’s Joan Smith says, “It’s a laid-back atmosphere where you have the chance to hobnob with artists—some well-known, some soon-to-be—and know your purchase directly supports the artist, commission-free.” Each day features a different roster of artists, and over the course of the weekend, nearly 200 will rotate tables. Check out Miriam Singer’s imaginary city drawings or the bottle cap magnets of Rachel Dellheim. Since man can’t live on art alone, there’s also food and drink from local restaurants and live bands. As Smith predicts, “You’ll end up with original art by a real artist and the warm feeling that you’ve done your bit to keep the creative wheels of our city running.” (J.S.)

FSGP’s Anti- Superstition Bash 2008

What great ideological struggles define our age? Liberty vs. the vile dragon of Islamo-fascism? Or is it more straightforward? Is it truth, rationality and science vs. the dank festering mulch monsters of medieval superstition that rule everywhere from Tehran to the Oval Office? Magician James Randi has fought a decades-long campaign against mumbo-jumboism of all kinds, offering a $1 million reward to anybody who can so much as bend a fork without flat-out cheating. Many have tried but all have been exposed as impotent frauds. If only he could get to meet the pope face to face, wrestle him to the ground and rip off his mask to reveal … a sad old man no more able to channel the supernatural than the Wizard of Oz. Randi is the special guest at the Freethought Society of Greater Philadelphia’s annual gathering of devil-may-care atheist lunatics who wave their puny fists in the face of God and defy him to drop an asteroid on their heads as they gleefully smash mirrors and walk under ladders and say “Candyman” five times really fast. And then laugh gleefully as nothing happens again and again. Come on, God—get your massive finger out, you nonexistent asshole. (Steven Wells)