quick bright things

Paris vs New York, a tally of two cities: le fromage

2011-07-30T09:38:00.000-07:00

Paris vs New York, a tally of two cities: le fromage

Current Playlist/Song of the Day

2011-02-06T19:47:00.000-08:00

Baby - Justin Bieber featuring Ludacris
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright - Bob Dylan
Forget You - Glee Cast
Giving Up - Ingrid Michaelson
I Would Be Sad - The Avett Brothers
Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons
No You Girls - Franz Ferdinand
Caught Up in the Cycle - Nights & Weekends
Drink Drink Drink - Traffic Island
Shape of My Heart - Noah and the Whale
Poor Jack - Nightmare Before Christmas Soundtrack
From California - The New Amsterdams

Yes, Please

2010-12-21T16:15:00.000-08:00

I've previously mentioned that I am a snob when it comes to movie posters, preferring graphics to photos and striking, simple designs to cluttered ones.

I haven't seen it yet, but these re-imaginings of the 'Black Swan' poster? To die for.

Or maybe lose your sanity and think you're a swan for. As I said, I haven't seen the movie.

Five Reasons I Am Excited to Go Back to America for Christmas

2010-12-11T08:29:00.000-08:00

1. Christmas
Clearly, this is the biggest and most obvious. During the time I lived in London, I spent Christmas away from home...it wasn't awful, really. I got drinks with friends Christmas Eve, opened presents with my family via Skype, had a nice dinner with my roommate. But it wasn't the same. I want to go home and see our 12-ft tall (real!) tree that has more ornaments than branches. I want to help Mom move all the Rudolph stuffed toys down the basement so she can perform the show while we watch the DVD at the same time. I want to eat my dad's macaroni and cheese with 80 or our nearest and dearest and then sing a tone-deaf, slightly intoxicated version of '12 Days of Christmas' with everyone invented hand motions and the kids trying to drown out one another. I want to go ice skating at town center with my sister and wander Tyson's and drink wine with my best friends while we talk about the past year. I want to do all of these things and, in less than a week, I can.

2. Hamburgers
I'm pretty sure I'm going to Five Guys on the way home from the airport (so long as I don't get airplane food poisoning again...). Do you have idea how glorious a dead cow with cheese sounds right now? And Cajun fries? Oh my. Not only are the Brits terrible at burgers, but I have found myself surrounded by a disproportionately high number of vegetarians these past few months, which only makes me crave meat more. It's definitely a situation of 'for every animal you save, I'll eat three,' and I'd like to make good on this threat as quickly as possible.

3. Clothes
I know it's impossible, but I swear I wear everything in my closet every day. Or, that's what it feel likes. I am so. very. bored. with what I have to wear...I want dresses, again. I want shoe options. I want a second sweatshirt, at least. I want options! Also, I want my winter coat, desperately. It's so very cold.

4. Perspective
I feel like I've been making fairly significant life choices in a bubble, recently. Not to say I've been making bad decisions, just been making them without any input from people who know me really well, who know what my situation is and what makes me happy/unhappy, etc. I'd like to be able to talk to my family about my academic/living plans, talk to my friends about social things, etc.

5. PEOPLE
Oh my sweet heaven, I cannot wait to see people. This was kind of covered in the first and fourth points but....my family! My sister! KaJaMa! Jacey! All the DC adventure people! My New York crew! All of my people! I have been truly lucky to meet a wonderful group of friends here, but getting to see my people at home again....wonderful. Truly wonderful.

Merry Christmas, chickens.

THIS TUMBLR IS NOW DIAMONDS

2010-10-09T03:21:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I added the Sesame Street Tumblr to my Google Reader. Best. Idea. Ever.

A Slightly Different Song of the Day

2010-09-24T08:48:00.000-07:00

Song of the Day

2010-09-23T12:10:00.000-07:00

Crossroads (Joyce Sutphen)

2010-09-14T20:57:00.001-07:00

The second half of my life will be black
to the white rind of the old and fading moon.
The second half of my life will be water
over the cracked floor of these desert years.
I will land on my feet this time,
knowing at least two languages and who
my friends are. I will dress for the
occasion, and my hair shall be
whatever color I please.
Everyone will go on celebrating the old
birthday, counting the years as usual,
but I will count myself new from this
inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift,
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,
fingers shifting through fine sands,
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.
There will be new dreams every night,
and the drapes will never be closed.
I will toss my string of keys into a deep
well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice
breaking up on the river, rain
soaking the fields, a hand
held out, a fire,
and smoke going
upward, always up.

On The Strength of All Conviction and the Stamina of Love ( Jennifer Michael Hecht)

2010-09-14T20:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think
we could have gone on.
All of us. Trying. Forever.

But they didn’t fill
the deserts with pyramids.
They just built some. Some.

They’re not still put there,
building them now. Everyone,
everywhere, gets up, and goes home.

Yet we must not
Diabolize time. Right?
We must not curse the passage of time.

Anatomy of a Bookshelf

2010-09-07T13:41:00.000-07:00

Shelf 1, back row: "Making of" movie books, plays, comic anthologies/graphic novels

Shelf 1, front row: poetry, London guides

Shelf 2, back row: Harry Potter, His Dark Materials, Sherlock Holmes, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, In Cold Blood, The Other Boleyn Girl, The Complete Edgar Allen Poe

Shelf 2, front row: The Peggy Lane Theater Series, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Amnesiac, The Woman in White, Dracula, The Alienist, Gone with the Wind, Sense and Sensibility, Emma, Little Women, Peter Pan (11 copies)

Shelf 3, back row: Shakespeare lit crit and historical context

Shelf 3, front row: Shakespeare plays (38 volumes)

Shelf 4, back row: young adult and children's (mostly published 1960's), foreign language textbooks

Shelf 4, front row: young adult and children's (mostly published 1980's)

Shelf 5: picture books, shooting scripts, theater programs, half filled notebooks

So, basically, something like 70% of my bookshelf has a reading level of 12 or younger and the rest is Shakespeare. Sounds about right.

As If That Last Poem Wasn't Great Enough on Its Own...

2010-08-18T10:42:00.000-07:00

Litany (Billy Collins)

2010-08-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

Five Videos I'm Into Right Now

2010-08-05T19:32:00.001-07:00

(because it can't all be quotes from books I'm giving away)

...okay, so I'm always into that last one.

And You Can Quote Me: Pride and Prejudice; Jane Austen

2010-07-24T11:52:00.000-07:00

And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one's genius, such an opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually abusive without saying any thing just; but one cannot be always always laughing at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.

At any rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest of her life.

And You Can Quote Me: Mansfield Park; Jane Austen

2010-07-24T11:37:00.000-07:00

If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way—but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.

'It is as a dream, a pleasant dream!' he exclaimed, breaking forth again, after a few minutes' musing. 'I shall always look back on our theatricals with exquisite pleasure. There was such an interest, such an animation, such a spirit diffused. Everybody felt it. We were alive. There was employment, hope, solicitude, bustle for every hour of the day. Always some little objection, some little doubt, some little anxiety to be got over. I never was happier.'

But tell me about it. Talk to me forever.

The impossibility of not doing everything in the world to make Fanny Price happy, or of ceasing to love Fanny Price, was of course the groundwork of his eloquent answer.

If I had the power of recalling any one week of my existence, it should be that week, that acting week.

Nay, in sober sadness, I believe I now love you all.

When I think of this being the last time of seeing you for I do not know how long, I feel it quite impossible to do anything but love you.

But were I to attempt to tell you of all the women whom I have known to be in love with him, I should never have done.

And You Can Quote Me: The Perks of Being a Wallflower; Stephen Chbosky

2010-07-24T11:19:00.000-07:00

I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with people even if they could have. I need to know that these people exist.

I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.

And I wonder if anyone is really happy. I hope they are. I really hope they are.

Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.

Patrick actually used to be popular before Sam brought him some good music.

I really think that everyone should have watercolors, magnetic poetry, and a harmonica.

The outside lights were on, and it was snowing, and it looked like magic. Like we were somewhere else. Like we were someplace better.

And I thought that all those little kids are going to grow up someday. And all of those little kids are going to do the things that we do. And they will all kiss someone someday. But for now, sledding is enough. I think it would be great if sledding were always enough, but it isn't.

...I was looking at the old photographs, I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories. That someone actually took that photograph, and the people in the photograph had just eaten lunch or something.

I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life, and then make the choice to share it with other people.

...even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad.

And You Can Quote Me: Persuasion; Jane Austen

2010-07-24T11:15:00.000-07:00

She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older—the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning.

Gallons of River Water

2010-06-11T09:34:00.000-07:00

Who's pumped for USA/England tomorrow? Oh, I am. Adopted country, we're gunnin' for you....no matter what John Oliver says.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c

World Cup 2010: Into Africa - Two Teams, One Cup

www.thedailyshow.com

Daily Show Full Episodes

Political Humor

Tea Party

Travel (Edna St. Vincent Millay)

2010-05-13T20:40:00.000-07:00

The railroad track is miles away,

And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.

All night there isn't a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.

My heart is warm with friends I make,
And better friends I'll not be knowing;
Yet there isn't a train I'd rather take,
No matter where it's going.

And You Can Quote Me: The Catcher in the Rye; J.D. Salinger

2010-05-13T10:23:00.000-07:00

“I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to help you, if I can.”
He really was, too. You could see that. But it was just that we were too much on opposite sides of the pole, that’s all.

When I really worry about something, I don’t just fool around.

The only reason I didn’t do it was because I wasn’t in the mood. If you’re not in the mood, you can’t do that stuff right.

That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you half fall in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are.

The goddam movies. They can ruin you. I’m not kidding.

I used to think she was quite intelligent, in my stupidity. The reason I did was because she knew quite a lot about theater and plays and literature and all that stuff. If somebody knows quite a lot about those things, it takes you quite awhile to figure out if they’re really stupid or not.

Goddam money. It always ends up making you blue as hell.

Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone. I know that’s impossible, but its too bad anyway.

If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late? Nobody.

It’s not too bad when the sun’s out, but the sun only comes out when it feels like coming out.

“I don’t want to scare you.” he said, “but I can very clearly see you dying, one way or another, for some highly unworthy cause.”

Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

And You Can Quote Me: Anna Karenina; Leo Tolstoy

2010-05-13T10:19:00.000-07:00

All happy families are alike but an unhappy family is unhappy after its own fashion.

“..what am I to do?”
There was no answer, except life’s usual answer to the most complex and insoluble questions. The answer is this: live from day to day; in other words, forget.

Perhaps it’s our strong point really—this faculty for seeing our own shortcomings; but we overdo it, we comfort ourselves with irony to which we always give ready tongue.

It was my last effort. And I put my whole heart into it. I can’t. I’m no good at it.

His whole heart was filled with memories.

The future is yours and the present is mine- and the present is not all that it might be.

But it could not be helped. What must be must be.

By the mark of your steed
I can tell his fine breed
And a young man in love by his eyes

He felt himself and did not want to be anyone else. All he wanted was to be better than he had been before.

However often one sees her, every day she’s different. you only get that with the French.

They ought to find a way of being inoculated against love, like being vaccinated for smallpox.

Time will go by and I shall not mind about this either.

Spring is the time of plans and projects.

Woman, don’t you know, is the sort of subject that study it as much as you will it is always quite new.

Whatever our destiny is or may be, we have made it ourselves and we do not complain…no, they must needs teach us how to live. They haven’t the remotest idea of what happiness is; they don’t know that without our love, for us there is neither happiness nor unhappiness- there would be no life at all.

There are times when one would give a whole month for a six pence and others when you wouldn’t sell half-an-hour at any price.

She was studying his face, making up for the time she had not seen him, comparing, as she did every time they met, the picture of him in her imagination (incomparably superior, impossible in reality) with him as he actually was.

He looked at her as a man might look at some faded flower he had picked, in which it was difficult to trace the beauty that had made him pick and so destroy it.

I’ve always loved you, and if one loves anyone, one loves the whole person, just as they are and not as one would like them to be…

He who advocates war- off with him in a special advance legion to lead the first onslaught, the first attack!

Two is the Beginning of the End

2010-04-13T10:59:00.000-07:00

(via Londonist)

Michael Buble is Being Stalked by a Velociraptor

2010-04-03T20:27:00.000-07:00

(and it's kind of the best thing ever)

LEAD FEMALE'S NAME

2010-03-08T15:26:00.000-08:00

Five Reasons Why the Winter Olympics Are Better Than the Summer Olympics

2010-02-23T07:18:00.000-08:00

Still experiencing a little post-Olympic withdrawal. 2012 seems so far, while 2014 is a LIFETIME. And, as we all know, the Winter Olympics are way better than the Summer Olympics. Why's that, you ask? I'll tell you.

1. The age range

This is one of those classic cases where I have no facts to back up this statement, but it seems to me that there is a much wider age range in the Winter Olympics than the summer ones. A lot of the athletes I saw were late 20's to early 30's, but there were still teenagers in most events as well, so it seems that the sports just lend themselves to wider age ranges. I like this because a) you get to know the the athletes because they participate in more than one Olympics, b) there's a transition between the younger and older athletes and c) if someone messes up (Lindsey Jacobellis, anyone?) you don't have to feel quite as bad because maybe next time! Also, repeat Olympic appearances means that athletes have a chance to get their first-Olympic jitters out of the way, which could potentially lead to great performances. ALSO, repeat Olympic performances mean rivalries can be strengthened, and that's ha;f the fun!

2. Less is more

I know the Summer Olympics are more egalitarian, but I enjoy the fact that there are less countries in the Winter Games, not because I don't want those missing countries to have a chance to compete but because it makes watching it easier/more enjoyable. The aforementioned rivalries are more concentrated and take on a greater country-v-country aspect, the medal standing are easier to track, etc.

Along those lines, there are also fewer events in the Winter Games, which means I really can follow EVERYTHING, and care, and get behind Team USA as a whole as opposed to reducing it the Michael Phelps and the gymnastics team.

3. Racing on a track is less than racing on anything else

One of the biggest Summer Olympics sports is running. Running with hurdles, running without, running in teams, running this distance, running that, running running running. I find watching running incredibly boring. The distances are usually short, or feel way too long, people seem to go much slower than they do...I just don't like it. But strap a pair of skates on their feet? Done and done. Seriously, compare short track to track track...there's no comparison. Short track is way, way better. The grace, the balance required, the fact that you are almost guaranteed a collision at some point, the angle of the skaters...it's just all way better. Alpine skiing? Better. Bobsled? Better, if only marginally. And it goes on.

4. Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!

The Winter Olympics are about 1000x more dangerous than the Summer Olympics. Almost every sport involves risking life and limb in some serious way, and disaster lurks around every corner. I don't watch the Winter Olympic because I want someone to get hurt, but the fact that they could (and do) makes the viewing experience way more intense/suspenseful. Also, it gives me greater respect for the athletes. Yes, you can swim fast, but you don't require courage to get in that pool, while I think throwing yourself down a mountains takes some serious balls.

5. We get to hate on Russia again

Seriously, the Russians are just the best villains the world has ever seen, and the Winter Olympics once again give us an opportunity to be locked in an epic battle with them for supremacy (one we handily won this last time round). You only need to see the Plushenko profile to see how a view shots of Moscow and a little accented discussion of one's "enemies" can take men's figure skating and elevate it to James Bond proportions.

And You Can Quote Me: The Boxcar Children #3: The Yellow House Mystery; Gertrude Chandler Warner

2010-02-21T13:29:00.000-08:00

But he was too late. The [fish] hook caught fast in her hair and pulled it down over her face.

"Oh Alice, your pretty smooth hair!" cried Violet.

"O.K." said Benny. "Then I suppose we'll really starve without any breakfast at all."

"Let's call this Potato Camp, because we didn't eat anything here but potatoes." After that, the children always called it Potato Camp.

And You Can Quote Me: The Boxcar Children #5: Mike's Mystery; Gertrude Chandler Warner

2010-02-21T13:10:00.000-08:00

(in which more things are named, gender roles are further enforced and washing machines are incredibly exciting)

Jessie nodded at her older brother. "Yes, we will get off at Yellow Sands now. I think that is a beautiful name. Our uranium fields look just like yellow sand."

"[The horse] is taking it easy these days," said Maggie. "He stays out in the field all the time eating grass. This car goes faster."

"You mean you can drive it, Maggie?" asked Jessie.

"Yes," said Maggie smiling. "Sam says I drive alright."

"Remember Pat? My big brother?"

"Oh, yes, " said Henry. "He was the one who almost got drowned at the picnic."

"I'm glad," said Mrs. Wood very quietly. " I love to bake pies the best of anything. I wish I had time."

"Haven't you time?" asked Jessie, puzzled.

"No, dear," said Mrs. Wood. Her voice sounded sad. "I was all day to earn money to help keep us. I'm lucky to have a washing machine."

He showed them the door of the super market which opened all by itself.

"I'm afraid it is," said Jessie, trying to read. "That lovely new, pink house, and the washing machine and the electric stove!"

(Note: What Jessie is reacting to is a friend's house being burnt to the ground, the main plot point of the story)

"Well, well, Mr. Carter!" cried Henry. "We are so glad to see you again. You always seem to pop up when there is trouble."

"I try to," said John Carter with a twinkle in his eye.

"So when the place cools off, the pink house will be built again," replied the man.

"How about the things inside? The washing machine?" asked Jessie.

(Note: At this point, the children decide to set Mrs. Wood, Mike's mother, up with a pie shop)

"Sign?" cried Benny. "Did you say a sign? I'll tell you a good sign. Mike's Mother's Place."

..."Wonderful!" said Jessie. "And what a wonderful name for this place!"

"Oh, I remember," said Mr. Alden. "He had a brother who almost drowned."

Jessie wanted t wash dishes first. She filled the dish pan with hot soap suds. Then one by one, she slid the plates in, and washed them with a sponge. "I just love to do this," she said.

And You Can Quote Me: The Boxcar Children #1: The Boxcar Children; Gertrude Chandler Warner

2010-01-24T16:25:00.000-08:00

Now the baker's wife did not like children. She did not like boys at all.

"Come, Benny," he said. "You must wake up and walk now."

"Go away!" said Benny.

"Good morning, Benny. Time to get up. Today you must build something for me out of stones."

"What is it?" Benny asked eagerly.

"I'm not going to tell you," said Henry, laughing.

"A runaway hen!" said Jessie. "She wanted to hide her nest so she would have some chickens. We'll have the eggs for supper. I know how to cook eggs."

(Note: Is anyone else disturbed how easily Jessie segues from "how cute, she wanted babies" to "let's eat them"?)

Now J. H. Alden liked boys. He liked to see them running and jumping and playing.

Jessie laughed and laughed until she almost cried. Violet laughed until she did cry.

Then she could not stop crying. She cried and cried. At last Jessie made up her mind that Violet was really sick.

"Well, if you don't find him, maybe you can have me, " remarked Benny. "I like you."

"You do? cried the man. "Come and get up in my lap."

Five Passages from The Boxcar Children #6: Blue Bay Mystery

2010-01-22T10:13:00.000-08:00

Because why not?

1. "Can Watch go?" asked Benny.
"Sorry, my boy. Let me tell you about Watch," began Mr. Alen.
"And now I know he can't," said Benny.

2. "I never saw such a lovely blue bay!" cried Jessie.
"You never will," said Lars. "They say this is the bluest bay in the world. We call it Blue Bay."

3. "..Sit on the big rocks. I'll give you each a fish line in a minute."
But it turned out that Lars had only four fish lines.
"It's just as well, " said Mr. Alden. "You girls sit on the rock and watch."

4. "Sounds good," said Peter. "My mother used to cook good things. I hope we can find her."

(Note: By "find her" Peter means "I hope she didn't die in that horrible shipwreck")

5. Mr. Alden went on. "Another thing, Captain, have you your secret camera?"
"Oh yes, I always have that."

...and one more!

BONUS: "I hope I can live till tomorrow," said Benny.
They all lived till "tomorrow."

And You Can Quote Me: Reality Bites

2010-01-21T19:26:00.000-08:00

Lelaina: I was really going to be somebody by the time I was 23.
Troy: Honey, all you have to be by the time you're 23 is yourself.
Lelaina: I don't know who that is anymore.
Troy: I do. And we all love her. I love her. She breaks my heart again and again, but I love her.

Covering the Year

2010-01-14T12:45:00.000-08:00

(via The Daily Dish)

"They who can give up essential liberty...

2010-01-13T07:25:00.000-08:00

...to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety."
-Benjamin Franklin

I am currently engaging in a bit of an experiment. Tucker Carlson launched the "conservative answer to the Huffington Post" a few days ago (a conservative answer to a progressive answer to a conservative aggragate blog? whatever) and, due to its vast superiority when it comes to layout and design, I have decided to give it a shot. Am I a conservative? Not at all, but my biggest problem with today's current political discourse is that there really is none. We retreat to our separate corners and we put our hands over our ears and we listen to only those who agree with us and that's...that's not how it's done. That's not how it should be done. And because of this, I've become increasingly uncomfortable getting my news from left-leaning sources. Am I getting the whole story? What's the other side say? And am I agreeing with what I'm reading because that's what I think, or that's what I'm being told to think?

Also, I feel it can only serve to strengthen/clarify your opinion if you form it in conflict with something. My favorite political discussions are those I have with my (reasonable, well-informed) conservative friends because while we neer change each other's minds, we do tend to wind up with a broader viewpoint and a deeper understanding.

So! Basically, that was a really long way of saying, I'm going to see where this Daily Caller thing takes me.

Day One was a little rough, in that I'd like to punch Eric Cantor in the face and there is some woman who is basically everything you hate about self-satisfied bloggers and Sarah Palin rolled into one, but the news stories...not so bad. Reasonable, even. Understandable, if nothing else.

Today, ignoring the lessons I learned yesterday, I once again ventured into the opinion column. After reading a poorly written, but relatively unoffensive call to parents to exert more diligence over their children's social lives, I clicked on a link for a post by Martha Zoller entitled A woman of a certain age vs. body scanners.

Now, let me preface this by saying, I hate the idea of body scanners. They make me markedly uncomfortable. I just think it's a step too far and, as Zoller points out, "Sources say the substance that was in his panties would not have been detectable by a full body scanner" (if I was a real journalist I would find information to substantiate this claim, but not being a real journalist, I'm inclined to give Zoller the benefit of the doubt when it comes to fact-checkable things). There has to be a point where you draw the line and say, no, no thanks, and, for me, that line is allowing a computer to strip search me. Again, I'm with Zoller here:

On top of that, it seems that TSA is telling a little white lie about whether these machines can store and send images. TSA says no, common sense says yes. If it can take a digital picture, it will show up somewhere and that scares me to death.

I'm not saying the TSA is lying, but it is well within the realm of possiblity that these images could be seen beyond that step through in the airport. And that's just not okay with me.

Zoller goes on:

So let’s look at the real problem with the boarding of Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, who I call “The Panty Bomber,” on an airplane bound for Detroit on Christmas Day. Sources say the substance that was in his panties would not have been detectable by a full body scanner. There are disputes as to whether he had luggage or a passport, but there is no dispute that he arrived at the airport, booked a one-way ticket, paid cash and checked no luggage.

Again, I'm kind of on board with this, and at this point, I'm feeling good. I'm thinking, look at me and Zoller! We're on the same page! We are coming together over the idea of privacy! The answer is not to increase Big Brother, but to pay attention to things like one-way tickets paid in cash and no checked luggage (I have read enough spy novels in my day to know these are suspicious things)! Now she's going to talk about how his name was flagged and his father told us he was a terrorist and how the system fell down but how the rational answer is not then put the system on steroids but to fix the system and maintain our freedom! Huzzah! Maybe she will even use that great Ben Franklin quote (see above)!

And then I kept reading:

If you throw in there the fact that he was Muslim and a male under 40, there were red flags all over this guy.

So because of political correctness, I have to continue being searched at the airport. I generally set off the alarms every time I go through. Not sure what does it but I get the full raise your legs, hold your arms out, wand up and down treatment almost every time I fly. I don’t really mind it since we know Rubenesque women of 50 are at very high risk to try to take a plane down. What really makes me angry is seeing an octogenarian being frisked right down to their waistbands. I dared to ask a TSA agent why search an 85 year old woman who is in a wheelchair and he said, “last week we found a gun on a 90 year old.” Do you believe that, I don’t?

...oh.

This the point where my head starts to hurt. Suddenly, we're not talking about privacy and liberty anymore, we're talking about racial profiling to cut down on inconvenience.

I am immediately reminded of Colin Powell, when he endorsed Obama:

I'm also troubled by - not what Senator McCain says - but what members of the Party say, and it is permitted to be said: such things as, "Well, you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim." Well, the correct answer is he is not a Muslim. He's a Christian; has always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, "What if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country?" The answer's "No, that's not America." Is there something wrong with some seven-year-old Muslim American kid believing that he or she could be President? Yet, I have heard senior members of my own Party drop the suggestion he's Muslim and he might be associated with terrorists. This is not the way we should be doing it in America.

I feel strongly about this particular point because of a picture I saw in a magazine. It was a photo essay about troops who were serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery. And she had her head on the headstone of her son's grave. And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone. And it gave his awards - Purple Heart, Bronze Star; showed that he died in Iraq; gave his date of birth, date of death. He was twenty years old. And then at the very top of the headstone, it didn't have a Christian cross. It didn't have a Star of David. It had a crescent and a star of the Islamic faith. And his name was Karim Rashad Sultan Kahn. And he was an American. He was born in New Jersey, he was fourteen years old at the time of 9/11 and he waited until he could go serve his country and he gave his life.

According to Wikipedia (a sometimes dubious source, I know, but recall I am not a journalist), there are between 2.5 and 7 millions Muslims in the United States. I do not know the percentage of which are males under 40, and nor do I care. If we, as a country, decide it's okay to single out that demographic and label them as dangerous in our treatment of them, it affects everyone else as well. It creates a divide and draws a line in the sand and says "you are over there and we are over here." The GOP likes to point to American liberty as one of the reasons other cultures and countries take issue with us, as one of the reason we are superior, as something that makes America great and yet they seem to be so cavalier about revoking those rights to groups they take issue with.

And if we are going through with Zoller's suggestion, how do you recognize if someone is Muslim or not? You can't, not definitively and, as far as I know, there is no place on the passport for religion. So therefore Zoller's "Muslims under 40" is widened into "Arab-Americans under 40." Keep in mind, the Panty Bomber was Nigerian. So now its "Arab-Americans and Nigerians under 40." And it expands again. And again.

Zoller seems to accept the fact that, for an unknown reason, she sets off airport security and is stopped. As it should be. If I set something off, I should be stopped. If I pay for a one-way ticket with cash and no luggage, I should be stopped. This I do not argue with, because they are legitimately (in my mind) suspicious. A one-way ticket and no luggage indicates haste and no plan to return, which in turn indicates fleeing from something or creating a situation in which no return is possible. Cash, in conjunction with these things, indicates a desire to not be traced. Combined, very fishy.

I dared to ask a TSA agent why search an 85 year old woman who is in a wheelchair and he said, “last week we found a gun on a 90 year old.” Do you believe that, I don’t?

Well, yes. Yes, I do. You know why? Because in June of last year, an 88 year old man walked into the Holocaust Museum and opened fire. The old are just as capable of harm as the young. Hate doesn't know age, race or religion, and there is no way of looking at someone what is their minds.

All Day, Every Day

2010-01-12T06:17:00.000-08:00

"Shhhhhhhhh. shhhhhhhhh. I'm telling you: your voice, my ears. A bad combination."
- Sleep Talking Man

But Could I Bring Myself to Watch It?

2010-01-11T13:46:00.000-08:00

In response to Jezebel's coverage of the Palin-Fox agreement, one commentor offers up a vision of what could be:

This could be done right. Let's give her a show where she interviews terrorists and then she says goofy things and winks at the camera while her subjects are befuddled. It can be called "Palin around with Terrorists." Ooh, and she can have a brainy, Middle Eastern sidekick who goes by al-Kafi, and he tries to explain things to her rationally, but she calls him Al Coffee, and always interrupts him to say "just get me a coffee - if I wanted advice, I'd ask for Al Advice." Then she would wink at the camera, and as he scurries for her coffee, she'd get in some product placement and say "Make it a Folger's, none of that half-calf vinny hoo-ha mocha latte ya-ya nonsense for me. We'll leave that for the liberal east coasters!" And then the laughtrack would play. There will have to be a laugh track of course. You betcha.

Dear Christian Bale

2010-01-11T13:19:00.000-08:00

Dear Christian Bale,

According to Wikipedia, when it comes to Newsies you are "not a fan of the film." About it you reportedly said, "Time healed those wounds. But it took a while." To which I say:

Get over yourself.

"Time healed those wounds"? Really? You're talking about a Disney musical you made when you were 17. You sang, you danced, you used a terrible accent. You were 17. When I was 17, I was wearing skater pants, Doc Marten's and had a pacifier on my key chain, yet I seem to be able to talk about it without it sounding like I lost my mother in a wildebeest stampede or found my spouse sleeping with the mailman. And yes, okay, so my teenage follies were not committed to film. I doubt my teenage follies ever inspired drinking games, or sing-alongs from the beach or even performed the simple task of making a 23 year old temp worker feel better about her day. My teenage follies did not bring the masses unbridled joy.

I mean, really. Get over yourself. There are worse things you could have been than the King of New York.

Are you really so humorless that you can't enjoy the fact that you were part of this movie? This ludicrous ridiculous, wonderful movie beloved by everyone I know (and probably most people born between 1984 and 1990). Is that really such a blight on your past? You auditioned for Batman and Robin, for Chrissake. You were in that atrocious A Midsummer Night's Dream. You provided a voice for Pocahontas. Has time healed those wounds, I wonder?

I want to like you. Love you, even. You are beautiful and talented and in a host of my favorite movies. Henry V! Little Women! The Prestige! YOU'RE BATMAN FOR F%&*^'S SAKE! It's like you hand-tailored your resume to pluck at my heart strings. But you know what that resume includes? Yeah, that's right. Newsies.

I want to like you, but you make it so hard, what with your vocally abusing that sound guy and the accused assault and the fact that I never see you smile. You were so charming as Laurie! So adorable as the one of Falstaff's boys! And seemed to be having so much fun as Jack Kelly. So why, Christian, why must you push this past of yours away from you? Is it so terrible that before you became a "serious actor" you had a little fun?

Come back, Christian. We miss you, here, in Notajerktopia.

Still jealous of Sarah after all these years,

emma

And You Can Quote Me: Rock 'n' Roll; Tom Stoppard

2010-01-09T19:23:00.000-08:00

Max: ...I'm down to one belief, that between theory and practice there's a decent fit — not perfect but decent: ideology and a sensible fair society, it's my double helix and I won't be talked out of it or done out of it or shamed out of it. We just have to be better. (pg. 22)

Interrogator: ... You're not clever, you're simple. And if you're not simple you're complicated. We're supposed to know what's going on inside people. That's why it's the Ministry of the Interior. Are you simple or complicated? Have a biscuit. (pg. 27)

Jan: ..last year, they lost their license — undesirable elements, you know. . .

Max: Undesirable how?

Jan: Their songs are morbid, they dress weird, they look like their on drugs, and one time they sacrificed a chicken on stage, but otherwise it's a mystery. (pg. 33)

Jan: If I were English I wouldn't care if Communism in Czechoslovakia reformed itself into a pile of pig shit. To be English would be my luck. I would be moderately enthusiastic and moderately philistine, and a good sport. I would be kind to foreigners in a moderately superior way and also to animals except the ones I kill, ad I would live a decent life, like most English people, and behave decently in the English way. (pg. 38)

Lenka: What you like about brains, Max, is that they all work in the same way. What you don't like about minds is that they don't. (pg. 58)

Esme: ...Is this all where we're going if we're lucky? A windy corner by a supermarket, with a plastic bag on the handlebars full of, I don't know, ready-meals and loo paper. . .lumpy faces and thickening bodies in forgettable clothes, going home with the shopping? But we were all beautiful then, blazing with beauty... (pg. 70)

Jan: ..We have an arrangement with ourselves not to disturb the appearances. We aim for inertia. We mass-produce banality. (pg. 82)

Jan: ?! (pg. 107)

Uncle Morty Can't Resist Edging in on a Photo

2010-01-06T12:19:00.000-08:00

(Hat tip to Katie via HuffingtonPost)

Five Pieces of Clothing I Blame Ann M. Martin For

2010-01-04T09:48:00.000-08:00

My morning has been unusually productive, but in between scheduling meetings and making photocopies, I have found ample time to explore What Claudia Wore. Who is Claudia, you ask, and why do we care what she wore? Well, my friend, you have obviously never been a 6 year old girl child. The "Claudia" is one Ms. Claudia Kishi, vice-president of the infamous Baby-Sitter's Club and fashion icon for those of us learning to read in the late 80s/early 90s.

Fact: I really wanted to be Claudia. She was so hip! She was so cool! She was Japanese! An artist! SHE WAS THIRTEEN! I aspired to be all of these things when I was six (yes, including Japanese) and thus, I tried my darndest to also dress like her.

Oh, emma.

To give you a sense, today's five things are five articles of clothing I not only owned but WORE. Not only wore, but thought I looked GREAT in. To my knowledge, none of these specific articles were ever photographed, which is a win for me since not only do I shudder to recall them but I was pretty round little kid back in the day who was also awkwardly taller than all her classmates. Also, all of them were bought and worn with the idea they made me look more like Claudia.

Ah youth.

1. Electric Blue Spandex Stirrup Pants ...yeah, do I really need to say anything else? Except that I bet American Apparel is selling them right now, which means time has taught us nothing.

2. Scottie Dog Shirt In retrospect, this probably leaned more towards "adorable nineties child" wear and less "80's trainwreck," but I recall it specifically because to me, in the first grade, it was something Claudia would have worn. The sleeves were long and black with, I think, some kind of herringbone pattern on the cuffs while the torso was half red and half yellow (front and back, kind of like a jester's coat). On the front were..three? appliqued Scottie dogs with bow ties in a plaid that was either red or yellow depending on which half of the shirt they were on (yellow on red/red on yellow). I really loved this shirt.

3. Purple Corduroy Overalls These were particularly exciting because my Claudia doll had them, too! Except hers were shorts and mine were pants, which meant I couldn't wear hot pink tights underneath in a way anyone would see. Oh well.

4. Puffy Shirt I do not watch Seinfeld, but I am aware there is an episode the revolves around this weird puffy-ruffled shirt. Guess who owned one of those? THIS girl! Oh yeah, was a big fan of that thing. It was white and kind of silky, and I may have owned a second in denim (the denim one? Okay, I admit, there may be a school photo...).

5. Harlequin Mask Pins I found these to be really exciting, and never felt more "hip" and "with it" than when I was wearing them on either side of my purple corduroy overalls.

I am...yeah, I got no words on this one. So I will leave you with a posting from What Claudia Wore. This was the inspiration for all the horror just described. This was the goal of six year old emma's style aspirations:

"For instance, at that Labor Day meeting she was wearing a bracelet of dyed, braided shoelaces, along with a blousy ruffled shirt that looked as if it once belonged to Captain Hook; mismatched high-top Converse sneakers; and baggy, pinstriped men's suit pants, gathered at the waist with a bungee cord. On me, something like that would look like a Halloween costume. On Claudia it looked way cool."

...See?

And By God, I Really Tasted Something Swell

2009-12-31T06:03:00.001-08:00

2009 was rough, there's no denying it. But as it comes to a close, remember this:

You got through it.

Here's to the next.

(via 1000 Awesome Things)

(This Year's Gonna be a Good, Good Year)

2009-12-30T09:10:00.000-08:00

This Time Last Year...

2009-12-30T06:55:00.001-08:00

Disgruntled usher: I swear by every god of Jupiter that these are your seats.

--The Ambassador Theatre, 49th & Broadway

(via Overheard in New York)

The Judge Who Allows Everything

2009-12-30T06:32:00.000-08:00

Comedy Central Park

Watch more

John Mulaney - Law & Order

http://www.comedycentral.com/

Joke of the Day

Stand-Up Comedy

Free Online Games

The Miracle of Life

2009-12-30T06:26:00.000-08:00

From Gothamist:

If you were thinking about giving up coffee in the new year: think again! The Wall Street Journal declares it might be saving your life. Seriously, they say if you drink two cups a day you'll even be less suicidal. Other scientific facts include: those drinking up to four cups a day are 25% less likely to develop Type 2 diabetes; men who drink at least six cups a day have a 60% lower risk of developing advanced prostate cancer; five cups a day can lower your risk of Alzheimer's by 65%... and so on. And all you're left with is a life-long addiction, and probably the shakes.

"You deduce that by removing your sunglasses to the strains of a Who song?"

2009-12-30T06:23:00.000-08:00

No joke, I am really craving Velveeta Shells and Mac now.

This Must Be Tried

2009-12-23T08:12:00.001-08:00

A way to make Yorkshire pudding without also having to make a roast? Sign me up.

Clearly, I Need a Trip to the Shore

2009-12-22T07:56:00.000-08:00

I have been slow to investigate and (as is inevitable) embrace MTV's Jersey Shore but this video may have sealed the deal.

The REAL Situation (Feat. MTV Jersey Shore's The Situation, Snooki, and Pauly D) - watch more funny videos

Guess what I'm doing over Christmas?

Did You Miss Me?

2009-12-16T11:57:00.000-08:00

(via explodingdog)

It's Friendship, Friendship...Just the Perfect Blendship...

2009-12-16T11:02:00.000-08:00

Of genuine affection and creepy stalking. Or, at least, in Facebook's case.

In light of the new "privacy" settings, Gawker has provided a useful little guide to getting some control back. Definitely worth a look.

Goodbye, England (Covered in Snow)

2009-12-16T10:56:00.000-08:00

It's snowing in London today. Let's mark the occasion:

Today is Clearly Going to Be About Clothes I Can't Have/Wear But Covet Immensely

2009-12-10T08:53:00.000-08:00

Like so. That dress is fantastic. The shoes...those I can live without.

Fact: I Hate Posh Spice...

2009-12-10T08:32:00.001-08:00

....but damn.

Most of all, I want those shoes. And the ability to walk in them.

(Via Jezebel)

Maddow v. Cohen

2009-12-09T10:18:00.000-08:00

Rachel Maddow and Richard Cohen, author of Coming Out Straight, a book being cited by proponents of the bill in Uganda to allow for the execution of gay people.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

All the Single Ladies (All the Single Ladies...)

2009-12-09T09:30:00.000-08:00

Oh, man.

Five Pictures

2009-12-09T08:22:00.000-08:00

Been relying too much on the word, lately and not enough on the image. Working off of today's photograph of a routemaster, here are five pieces by my favorite non-photography artists.

1. Georges Seurat, Au Concert Parisien

Sadly, this is not my favorite Seurat drawing. That would be one of a lone figure walking down a street under a streetlight that I saw as part of a visiting exhibition at the Peggy Guggenheim when I was 12. being 12, I didn't take the time to right down or commit to memory the name. Fie on me, I say. But this give you the general picture...the blurry edges, the figures barely coming out of the dark, and this one even has a theatrical element!

2. Edward Hopper, Rooms for Tourists

I think, at this point, it's pretty well established that (without necessarily being a particularly sad person), I do quite like sad things. This may be why Edward Hopper is my favorite artist. His pictures tend to be bright, bold and simple and yet somehow also lonely and heart breaking. They also are so rich with story, it's insane. Even this quiet house, I feel, has a story behind it, and I love wondering about what that story is.

3. William Hogarth, Marriage a La Mode- Scene II: Shortly After Marriage

Speaking of stories! William Hogarth is the man. Painting in the 18th century, he's pretty much one of the first serial cartoonists, making series of paintings that tell often cynical and scandalous stories about terrible people leading terrible lives. It's like fine art as a reality TV show. I saw an exhibit of his work in London and it's just...awesome. Every picture is incredibly rich in detail and they read almost like mini-plays. This print is the second in a seven-part series detailing a marriage of convenience that devolves into death, madness and all kind of adultery. Good times! As you can tell from the black dot on the tired man, he already has syphilis.

4. Van Gogh, Vase of Roses

The problem with Van Gogh is that I don't think his painting photograph remarkably well because part of what makes them so fascinating is their texture. This is a man who, in between cutting ears and going wonky, really liked to lay on paint, and when you stand in front of one of his pieces it's hard to resist the urge to run your hands over them. This is a painting that's in the Met and, I think, a particularly good example of what I'm talking about. Next time you're in New York, go investigate.

5. Rene Magritte, Empire of Light

Settling on the last picture was rough (what about Vermeer? Renoir? Sundry others?), but I love love love this picture. It has an element of a children's book about it, and yet is still so simple and elegant and I love the juxtaposition of night/day. What you can't see in the picture here, and can only really see in person, is that there are things in the dark. To the right of the house is a gate that leads into a garden, and it's impossible to explain how you can see that, but you can. you wind up kind of falling into this picture, and accepting the reality it creates.

Now on to less artistic endeavors...

(good morning)

2009-12-09T07:45:00.000-08:00

Routemaster by essexdiver via the Londonist Flickrpool.

And You Can Quote Me - Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie (Peter Breaks Through)

2009-12-07T18:45:00.000-08:00

"All children, except one, grow up."

"You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end."

"The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, who took a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her."

"He was one of those deep ones who knew about stocks and shares. Of course, no one really knows, but he quite seemed to know, and he often said stocks were up and shares were down in a way that would have made any woman respect him."

"When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind; and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on."

"Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingos flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was still very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a wolf cub forsaken by its parents; but on the whole Neverlands have a family resemblance, and if they stood in a row you could say of them they have each other's nose and so forth. On these magic shores children at play are forever breaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more."

Staying Out of Trouble Abroad

2009-12-07T07:34:00.000-08:00

I'll admit it, this Amanda Knox thing has got me a bit wigged. I haven't been following the trial very closely, so I don't know what kind of evidence she was convicted on, but I can't help but feel a sense of "there but for the grace of God..." when reading about her accounts. Not so much because the drug and orgy aspect, but because she was an American student studying abroad and may, in fact, be innocent. Who knows? The idea of getting in legal trouble in a country not my own terrifies me, so good thing Gawker posted this handy list of ways to avoid such a predicament.

Words to live by.

Five Problems with 'Dollhouse'

2009-12-07T06:35:00.000-08:00

Virginia got a healthy dusting of snow on Saturday, which gave me an excellent chance to catch up with Joss Whedon's 'Dollhouse.' The show is in its second season, but has been cancelled, and now Fox is burning through the remaining episodes two at time to get it all over with as soon as possible. Having seen many, many episodes of 'Buffy' and being a diehard lover of 'Firefly,' I don't feel 'Dollhouse' lived up to either of these previous projects. Here are five things I would have changed:

1. Eliza Dushku. This is both the most obvious problem and the biggest, in my mind. Dushku may be hot, but she's also horrible. I know she's a Whedon favorite, but why oh why? She's like Sci-Fi television's Mariah Gale. The girl can't act. And this is especially problematic/apparent in a show whose premise is based on a) the fact that the characters become completely different people each episode and b) the character of Echo/Caroline is supposed to have a mystic draw when it comes to all of the other characters (see point 2). To make matters even worse, Enver Gjokaj is just hands down AMAZING (troublesome RP accent aside), and any time Victor and Echo share an episode, Dushku's failings become even more apparent.

2. The Ballard/Caroline dynamic. Tiresome. Whedon kind of likes to mess with his audience, which is why the savior complex Ballard's ex-FBI agent feel towards Echo is given such a creepy undertone (which, though a clever angle, I don't think is taken far enough), but even that isn't enough to satisfactorily distract from the fact that this central through line is so incredibly done. I was over it the moment Ballard got a photograph and a name, and it was extra frustrating when paired with the genuinely intriguing Mellie relationship. This is much like the Enver/Eliza contrast...Whedon gives us something worthwhile, but makes it secondary to something tired, vaguely cliched and far more mainstream. Of course, if you had a more compelling actress playing Echo, it could have worked out well, but I find Dushku to have all the charisma of a Canal Street handbag, and so that someone should fixate on her is, to me, completely unbelievable and makes that through line feel even more like a kind of tried-and-true gimmick as opposed to an organic relationship between the characters.

3. Lack of humor. If you watched 'Firefly' you know that Whedon is more than capable of balancing intrigue and danger with laugh out loud funny ("I swear by my pretty little bonnet I will end you."), but the world of 'Dollhouse' is far too earnest and takes itself far too seriously to allow for such a balance, it seems. Not to say the show doesn't have it's funny moments, but they originate almost entirely from the neuroses of the chief programmer, Topher (if you saw the second of last week's episodes you will probably agree with me that the Tophers were among the best things ever, and further proof that Gjokaj is just phenomenal), or from some kind of neurological mix-up (Topher and Adele's deep discussion of brown sauce, Gjokaj's hilarious accidental turn as Kiki). When the humorous moments come, they are a joy, but there is also something obvious about them, as if Whedon realizes he owes us a few laughs. They don't always feel natural and there aren't enough of them. I understand this is not a "funny" show, but I don't know that the truly serious episodes are strong enough to stand on their own (with the possible exception of Epitaph One), especially when they are anchored around...you guessed it, Eliza Dushku. Seriously, so much could be fixed if she wasn't the anchor.

4. Epitaph One. This is a tricky problem to get into, and I know I probably stand alone, but Epitaph One really came close to ruining the second season for me. Released as DVD extra, there are 'Dollhouse' watches who have never seen this episode, and I envy them. As a stand alone, it is pretty phenomenal, and I love me some Felicia Day, but to release it ahead of the second season was, I think, a mistake. It takes place in the future and gives us a picture of what the Dollhouse's technology has done to our planet and society. Fascinating stuff, but the fast-forward ruins the suspense of the second's seasons episodes since we see the end result of all of the characters relationships. True, we don't know how they got there, but I don't know that I particularly care. It strikes the journey as hollow, like knowing the final score of a sporting event. Sure, there may still be exciting plays, but they lose a lot since you know the outcome.

Victoria loves the episode because she likes seeing the clues to the future and knowing where they lead to, and maybe that's most people. For me, I much prefer to be kept in the dark and try to figure out myself untile all is revealed, and then go back and look for the hints I missed the first time around. Had there been no second season, Epitaph One would have been a great way to answer questions and provide a stop to the series. Instead, it takes the fun out of it.

5. All of the above. I know, this sounds like a total cop-out fifth problem, but let me explain. This show has incredible promise. There are episodes that leave me totally floored (who else totally freaked out when the phone rang and Adele's voice calmly proclaimed 'There are three flowers in a vase. the third flower is green."? Blew my mind) and, despite my problems with the second season (see previous point), they are really getting interesting with the ways to screw with Echo (Echo as a mother and the serial killer episode were both incredibly cool). Adele is a kick-ass woman, Mellie was a welcome addition to the "I look like a real person" stable of television actresses and the secondary characters are incredibly interesting/compelling (Enver Gjokaj! I can't say that enough). But, I have not recommended it to a single person. Because, for all of it's potential, it doesn't come together. I find the holes just too big, and to get to a place where you do become interested and invested is more of a commitment than I think is worth it. I would say, at this point, at least a quarter of the episodes I could do without, most of which come from the first season and the complicated nature of the plot makes it vital you watch them all.

It was a cool premise, and sometimes succeeds, but too much of the good is too far undermined by the bad. When it goes off the air in January, I can't say I'll be crushed. I certainly won't be surprised.

It's That Time of Year

2009-12-04T13:28:00.000-08:00

Usually, I add this to my AIM profile, but since the advent of Gchat, I'm never signed on any more. But! traditions must be followed and thus, my feathered friends, the 'Love Actually' profile lives on in blog form...

With any luck, by next year
I'll be going out with one of these k i d s.
But for now, let me say
Without hope or agenda
Just because it's Christmas
And at Christmas you tell the truth
To me, you are perfect
And my wasted heart will love you
Until you look like this.

Merry Christmas.

The West Wing Didn't Go Away, It Just Got Elected

2009-12-03T14:00:00.000-08:00

A brilliant Jezebel.com commenter sees the Salahis through a Sorkin lense:

It would open with Toby and Sam holding a copy of the Washington Post with the
partycrashers pictures on the cover.
Toby: "Do you see what this is?"
Sam: "That would appear to be a very blonde lady in a Sari with the Vice
President."
Toby: (louder) DO YOU SEE WHAT THIS IS?
Sam: (peering
closer) Party crashers? Here? (more to himself) I didn't even know that was
possible.
Toby: PARTY CRASHERS. AT THE WHITE HOUSE.
Sam: (still to
himself) How'd they get past the secret service?
Toby: That's what everyone
is going to want to know. GINGER!

-cut to Leo's office with Sam and
Toby-
Toby: Leo, have you seen this?
Leo: Seen what? It's earlier Toby.
-Toby hands over paper-
Leo: Is this what I think it is?
Sam: It
depends what you think it is.
Leo: IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS?
Sam: If
you think it's two reality tv show wannabes who managed to slip past 4 layers of
secret service security to crash the state dinner, as the kids are saying these
days, then yes.
Leo: -withering look- MARGARET!

I feel like it would
be one of President Bartlett's good days - where the staff would be all atwitter
and freaking out and Leo would be yelling at people like crazy to figure out
"how these LUNATICS got past the people who are not even supposed to let a
SPEEDING BULLET get to the president and have prevented 32 assassination
attempts this year alone!"

Cut to Donna pacing frantically outside
Josh's office, and when he finally looks up to ask her what's wrong she rushes
in and just word vomits all over him:
Josh: Yes?
Donna: So you know how
my sister's cousin's veterinarian's brother had that polo association?
Josh:
No, but go on.
Donna: Well... they contacted me a couple days ago but
getting an invitation to this party and I told them that I didn't have any say
in it but I could try to finagle them an invitation and-
Josh: DONNA.
Donna: Yes Josh?
Josh: I'm going to hope I'm getting this wrong, but are
you telling me that you invited this couple to the party?
Donna: No! That's
what I wanted to tell you! I told them I DIDN'T have an invitation for them but
they showed up anyways!
Josh: Uh - okay. Just - just go do something and let
me figure this out. Get me Toby.
Donna: Josh?
Josh: Yeah Donna?
Donna: Are you mad at me?
Josh: I'm - no. Just - Just get Toby.

Toby: It was DONNA?
Josh: It was Donna. Rather it wasn't Donna, but
it was Donna.

As Josh is leaving (wrapping his scarf around his neck) he
runs in Danny Kincade walking out.
"Danny, walk with me."
"What's going
on Josh?"
"This party crashers story - is this still going to be big
tomorrow?"
"Well, considering how everyone's going to be talking about how
the secret service let someone gatecrash the party? Yes."

Something
MAJOR happens though (like a speech on Afghanistan? Repercussions from another
charming side story? A legislative healthcare battle prominently featuring
Abby?) and this gets brushed to the side, just checking in on staff every now
and then to remind us of this storyline.

And then at the end of the
episode, President Bartlett would come in from a charming weekend with Abby in
Vermont, in his dad jeans and a sweatshirt, put on his reading glasses and get
briefed, look over them at the person who's getting most of the blame (my guess
would be Donna) and say, "You - have you learned your lesson?"
"Yes Mr.
President"
"Good. Next time make sure no more weasels get in. We have enough
Republicans crawling around this place. Has the Secret Service been interviewed?
Have security policies been overhauled?"
"Yes Mr. President."
"Good. Now
I don't want to hear another word about this nonsense. We have a country to run,
and the situation in Izbekistan isn't going to resolve itself. You're dismissed.
Leo - you stay."
"Yes Mr. President?"
-laughing-"They actually crashed
the White House State Dinner?"
"Yes, Mr. President."
"Well, why aren't
you laughing, Leo?"
"Because Sir, this is a serious matter! You could have
been killed or worse!"
"Leo... if these (waves hands around with reading
glasses) fameballs got their 15 seconds of fame, I don't want to give them
anymore. Let the secret service deal with them. I'm going to bed - and you
should get some sleep to. Tell Mallory we expect to see her for Christmas."
"Yes sir, Mr. President, Good night Mr. President"

Maybe We Don't Give Jimmy Fallon Enough Credit

2009-11-24T13:43:00.000-08:00

Because then he does something like this:

Face Palm

2009-11-23T11:14:00.000-08:00

More from Mudflats' recapping of Going Rogue.

Page 217
“I didn’t believe in the theory that human beings – thinking, loving beings – originated from fish that sprouted legs and crawled out of the sea. Or that human beings began as single-celled organisms that developed into monkeys who eventually swung down from the trees…” (Wow.)

Steve Schmidt felt a little uncomfortable with this part of the discussion. Imagine that. “I had just dared to mention the C-word: creationism. But I felt I was on solid factual ground.” (Wow.)

Page 225
More of McCain’s introduction of her. It struck her as ironic that Obama had captured the theme of “change.” After all she’s the one who came up with it first. She wondered how she could interject that into the campaign – that she was for change “when change wasn’t cool.” (Wondering how many other political campaigns have had change as a theme. Probably every single non-incumbant. Nice try.)

Page 236
The McCain communications team learned that she was the VP pick the same day everyone else did so they were completely unprepared and had no idea who she was.

So when the avalanche of press inquiries tumbled in, the national media folks had zero information. What they did report, patchy factoids cobbled together from the Internet and a few left-wing Alaska bloggers was usually wrong. (Woooo! “A few left-wing Alaska bloggers” shout out!)

The national media, referred to as the “black-suited, laptop-toting flatlanders” (Flatlanders?) apparently drove around Wasilla trying to find out where Sarah Palin bought her liquor, and talked to: “a defeated former opponent” (Andrew Halcro), “a maniacal blogger” (Heck, that could be any of us, but probably Syrin), “the falafel lady” (political watchdog Andree McLeod) and “the Wasilla town crank” (presumably Anne Kilkenny).

Page 258
Tracey tried to do good, but her hands were tied by “headquarters.”
Even though the campaign was instructed to ankle tackle her if she tried to open her yap to the press on the plane, she sent the kids back to talk to the press. I guess that was so the press would stay away from her kids. Piper handed out heart-shaped stickers to reporters that said, “Vote for Piper’s Mom.”

Five Things From My Google Reader

2009-11-23T10:20:00.000-08:00

Just returned from another one of my ill-advised-but-so-worth-it epic theater road trips, driving over 1000 miles in 56 hours to catch Punchdrunk's 'Sleep No More' (and a minor cold). Show was fantastic, the company was fabulous and the cold didn't kill me. A successful weekend.

Now, 56 hours, is really not that much until you come home and log-on to the interwebs for the first time since gleefully leaving work early on Friday. 487. That's the number of posts Google Reader had waiting for me and, I am proud to say, I have finally gotten through them all! So today's Five Things will be culled from those offerings. In no particular order...

1) Via Joy, I give you the automatic packing list. I just tried it out for my upcoming weekend jaunt to New York, and while it seems pretty straight-forward it DOES save you the hassle of thinking for yourself. And in this day and age, who doesn't love that?

2) Remember, back a bit ago when Obama offered to write a little girl at one of his speeches a note for missing school? Maybe he got the idea from one of his predecessors. It seems another awesome president, this one by the name of Lincoln, once took time out from saving the Union to write a note to a little boy to confirm the child's story about meeting him. If you can't read it, it says "To whom it may concern: I did see and talk with Master George Evans Patten, last May, at Springfield, Illinois. Respectfully, A. Lincoln."

You can find the original story over The Daily Dish.

3. You know what else you can find at the Daily Dish? A baby otter. But I will save you all that tiresome clicking and just give it to you here:

4. It's only been a week but I'm already experiencing post-Mad Men malaise. This video of Roger Sterling's best one liners did a bit to cheer me up, but they left out three of my favs! A big ol' "Good for you" if you can guess the missing lines:

5. There are a lot of things that disturb me these days (previous posts), and The Disney Channel ranks pretty high up there. Through baby-sitting and my sister (who is for the record, 19) I have wound up seeing at least one episode of the following: Hannah Montana, Jonas, Sunny With a Chance, The Wizards of Waverly Place and, the subject of this Slate article, The Suite Life of Zach and Cody. None of it makes me feel great about the future. Where's Beauty and the beast when you need it?

I Read Mudflats' Recap of Going Rogue So You Don't Have To

2009-11-20T06:04:00.000-08:00

Seriously?

Seriously.

This is about as close to reading the book as I'm ever going to get, unless I suddenly have the urge to become a model and need a quickie crash diet/bulimia plan. Eegads, i hate this woman. I would say why, but I will let the following selections from Mudflats' blogging of the reading experience clue you in instead.

Page 30-31
Her Dad was the coach of many of her teams. He made her work harder than the other kids. She would be hurt because he was nicer to them than her. But there were advantages. He knew she hated playing in the pep band after a game, which was required for everyone. So he’d tape her fingers together and she’d lie and say they were sprained so she didn’t have to play the flute.

Page 53
Named Track because it was track season. If it had been wrestling season – Mat. If it had been basketball season – Court. Hockey season – Zamboni.

Page 86
Everyone else was “be-bopping” all over the state raising money and she only had $40,000. She didn’t like asking for money. “There were times when I thought, You know what I could really use? A wife."

Page 103
“There was a longing inside me that winter, a sense of purpose hovering just beyond my vision. Was it ambition? I didn’t think so. Ambition drives; purpose beckons. Purpose calls.”

Page 114
She found it amusing when Barack Obama “one of whose senior advisors (come to think of it) – had roots in Alaska – adopted the same theme. Yes folks, you read that right. She is insinuating that Barack Obama stole HER idea to run a campaign on “change” via Pete Rouse. I bet nobody in political history EVER ran a campaign with a change theme before.

...more to come as Mudflats continues. In the meantime, I have some drinking to do.

Must You Pistol Whip Everyone, Emmett?

2009-11-18T12:59:00.000-08:00

Upon a scan through the annals of the blog, I am horrified by the number of times Twilight has been mentioned. As it is, this is the third one today, but the only joy I have received form those books is the ability to read things like Growing Up Cullen (extensive IM conversations imaging the life of a 108 year old male teenage vampire virgin) and be in enough on the joke to find them hilarious.

Possibly we will move on to more substantive material tomorrow. More likely, I will have some very important thoughts to share on the finale of 'America's Next Top Model,' and thus my shame continues.

Twilight Means Never Having to Say You're Kidding

2009-11-18T08:48:00.000-08:00

Are we sensing a theme in today's posts?

Claire was kind enough to pass on a kind of Twilight-plus-Mormanism recap of the four books, which I highly recommend reading in lieu of the books themselves. I found myself laughing through the tears over these, enjoying the mockery and wit being displayed while also mourning the subject material exists in the first place, much like my experiences with anything Wonkette writes about Palin or Beck.

But that's besides the point. For your reading pleasure, I give you the Twilight series (I refuse to call it a saga) as it was meant to be experienced...

Twilight
New Moon
Breaking Dawn
Eclipse

** EDIT: I totally switched the titles of the last two books. The links are in the correct order, though. Honestly, I'm kind of relieved. I don't know enough about Twilight that I can correctly order four books! There's hope for me yet.

Low and High

2009-11-18T06:04:00.000-08:00

Two things I felt were worth sharing this morning:

1) I admit it, I've read the Twilight books. Yes, yes, all four. And no, I don't get a pass for the fact that a) they were my sister's and b) by the time I was 20 pages into the fourth I was making audible sounds of pain, the terrible plot and name "Renesme" still burned into my brain and haunting my dreams. And I really, really don't get a pass for having rented the film on iTunes while packing for America. I gave them legal tender, and thus helped enable this terrifying juggernaut of teenage angst and pining. No amount of regret can reclaim those two hours of my life or two dollars of my wallet, and I feel that in itself is punishment enough...I have said it many times, and will say it many times more-- the way the "Twilight Saga" makes me feel is identical to the sensation you get when you are hooking up with someone and then you realize you don't really want to be any more. Awkward, embarrassed, shameful, a little unclean, palpably uncomfortable and longing for selective memory loss. You can walk away from the encounter, but the flashbacks live on.

So I felt a little better once I read A. V. Club's Twilight edition of their I Watched This on Purpose feature. It helped explain to me things I didn't even fully understand myself about why I actually went through with the whole crushing experience. It didn't give me that time or money back, and it didn't restore my dignity, but I think it has helped give me the tools to move on and put this whole incident behind me.

2) You know what also helps clear away my rueful haze? Reflecting on things that are NOT terrible. Like Sherlock Holmes. The real Sherlock Holmes of Conan Doyle's books, though. I will reserve my judgement on this whole Downey-Law-Ritchie thing, but I CAN say that, even if the movie is terrible, it's still going to make Holmes a very popular cat this season, and that's cool. Because then you get things like Londonist's map of Holmes' London. Seriously, these people are more obsessive than even I am, and that's why I love them.

Five Sonnets

2009-11-10T08:46:00.001-08:00

I am feeling that generally lovey feeling that comes with the onset of the Christmas season (seriously, I think this is the most romantic time of the year) and the creation of a Fred Astaire Pandora channel. Why not keep it going with some poetry from a guy who knew a thing or two about love, my main man Mr. Billy Shakes? Thus, today's Five Things is dedicated to five of the Bard's sonnets (in order of personal preference).

1. Sonnet 30
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

1. Sonnet 29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deal heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

3. Sonnet 27
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee and for myself no quiet find.

4. Sonnet 128
How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more blest than living lips.
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

5. Sonnet 109
O, never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify.
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:
That is my home of love: if I have ranged,
Like him that travels I return again,
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe, though in my nature reign'd
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stain'd,
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.

The Last One?

2009-11-07T13:07:00.001-08:00

The 2009 World Series

2009-11-06T10:51:00.000-08:00

A great recap from ESPN.

Three Videos of Three Great Guys

2009-11-06T09:33:00.000-08:00

Three of my boys were on Letterman last night. Need I say more?

27 is One Goddamn Sexy Number

2009-11-05T10:07:00.001-08:00

The embedding isn't working, but if you want to see your 2009 World Series Champions celebrate like school boys (in the best possible way), clickety click!

Five Things I Am Loving Right Now

2009-10-19T08:01:00.000-07:00

1) These pants. After weeks of trying to find a pair that fit me, Gap finally came through. I am wearing them now and they are pretty much the most comfortable things I've ever put on. I'm serious, it's like wearing pajama pants to work except these have nice detailing and no drawstring. I am probably going back this weekend to get another pair in navy. They are to die for.

2) Northern Lite Turtle Lattes. I'm not even sure what flavor "turtle" is, but I know it is delicious and sugar-free. Not sugar-free (but also worthy of love) is Swiss Miss' new Pick-Me-Up hot cocoa, which has all the caffeine of a cup of coffee. Somebody has a direct link to my brain, it seems.

3) Yankees Playoff Baseball. OMFG, are you watching this team?!?! Three- THREE- come from behind wins to clinch the ALDS in three and now up 2-0 in the ALCS. A-Rod is having a clutch post season, pitching has been stellar, the games have been close (Saturday's game: 2-2 from the fifth on and tying it back up 3-3 in the ELEVENTH? Scoring on an error in the THIRTEENTH?! Are you kidding me with this?)...my god, I love this team.

4) October. It is cold! And almost Halloween! And all of this is just tip-toeing us ever closer to my favorite red-cupped holiday...

5) Anyone I have seen in the past month. For serious, I am having the BEST time with the old crowd. I am being completely and utterly spoiled by my wonderful, amazing friends.

The Lost Art of the Movie Poster

2009-10-17T11:14:00.000-07:00

One of the many, many things I like to whinge about is the art of the movie poster. I think teaser posters tend to be vastly more interesting because they're more psychological and subtle. For example...is a great poster. Simple, deliciously creepy, gets a lot of the movie in a single eerie image. Whereas, in my mind, this...

leaves me kind of cold. There's too much going, it's somewhat in elegant and...I don't know. I'm a snob, I guess, but I have kind of a problem with posters using photographs of people...even photography in general, sometimes. I'm a fan of bold, clean, simple graphics for movies that can double as art.

Which is why I highly enjoyed this posting featuring 25 re-imagined movie posters that are entirely graphic. No photos! All art! I would hang any of these on my wall. Here is my favorite of the bunch...

So. Cool. And yes, I did use a 'Dark Knight' poster at the beginning of this post to illustrate a 'good' poster, I still think that this is a really awesome alternative. They both achieve different things, I just wish we saw more of the second!

Step Away from the Computer

2009-10-15T06:20:00.000-07:00

A sure sign I spend too much time on the computer? Last night's dream, which centered around the tragic car crash that (in my dream) Chris Lehman and David Rosenthal.

Who are these people?

Chris Lehman used to write for Congressional Quarterly (I think) and is married to Ana Marie Cox. I follow them both on Twitter.

David Rosental is the husband of a girl who was two years above me in high school and who I haven't talked to in years. The reason I know who her husband is? Facebook.

Yeah. Maybe I need to cut back a bit.

Why Charlie Fink Needs a Girlfriend

2009-10-14T08:24:00.000-07:00

I am a big, big Noah and the Whale fan, so I was super stoked to get their new album The First Days of Spring. I had high hopes considering how utterly awesome Peaceful, the World Lays Me Down was and I have to say, though not disappointed, it's not what I was expecting. The main reason I like them is that, if you listen to Peaceful, it's not really a happy album. Even '5 Years Time' acknowledges the possibility of today's happiness disappearing, and '2 Atoms in a Molecule' is really just a meditation on the inability to be with someone else. But the key is that these songs sound happy. They reflect my own personal cynicism without making me want to kill myself. FTW.

But Spring doesn't really do that. Spring is just straight up sad. The girl is gone, the boy is alone, if things ever do get better...it will be a long time from now.

And it's for this reason that having Spring be my main soundtrack for this past weekend's endless road tripping would have been a horrible idea WERE IT NOT for one key track. 'Love of an Orchestra' still contains the pessimistic lyrics I tend to love ("if you gotta run, run from hope") and is based on the idea that one doesn't need people, really, because music is just as good, but it lays all of this out over a totally infectious string-driven base that makes me grin and lunge for the repeat button.

Here, check it out:

On the actual album, the track before it is actually an extended instrumental intro which I recommend incorporating into your daily listening. Really, just go get the album. Sad or not, it's still pretty great.

You've Come a Long Way, Baby

2009-09-24T06:47:00.000-07:00

Yes, women are still often underpaid, discriminated against and generally have not yet reached the perfect equality with men we strive for. That doesn't mean we haven't come a long way! Case in point? This 1943 hiring guide for women, via Claire (or Qlayre, if you're using her reality TV pseudonym).

If the promise of truly hilarious (and yet terrible) sexist employment guidelines doesn't lure you to take a peek, here's a preview:

3. General experience indicates that "husky" girls - those that are just a
little on the heavy side - are more even tempered and efficient than their
underweight sisters.

Oooooh yeah. It's that good.

Things I Listen To and Where They Came From

2009-09-08T06:32:00.001-07:00

For no rason other than I am at work, need to pass the time and haven't had quite enough caffeine to begin slogging through more Shakespeare annotations, I will now record for your reading pleasure a random list of the music I rock out to and where said music was discovered:

1. A Fine Frenzy
Sound: laid back female piano rock
Found: in the September issue of Vogue
Key Track: 'Almost Lover'

2. The Weepies
Sound: pretty, layered chill out music; good for driving home at night in a quiet mood
Found: JC Penny Christmas commercial
Key Tracks: 'All That I Want,' 'Slow Pony Home,' 'The World Spins Madly On'

3. Johnny Flynn and the Sussex Wit
Sound: British traditional meets American twang
Found: in the program notes of a production JF was acting in
Key Tracks: 'Brown Trout Blues,' 'The Wrote and the Writ'

4. Frank Turner
Sound: guy-and-a-guitar but with a harder edge and more profanity
Found: by listening to Radio Caroline, a British station broadcast off a boat
Key Tracks: 'St. Christopher is Coming Home,' 'Photosynthesis,' 'Long Live the Queen'

5. Noah and the Whale
Sound: peppy songs of heartbreak with a kind of electronic filter vibe
Found: opening for JF&tSW at the Lock Tavern
Key Track: '2 Atoms in a Molecule'

6. Bob Dylan
Sound: oh, you know
Found: everywhere, but most recently rediscovered on an episode of 'Mad Men'
Key Tracks: 'Don't Think Twice, It's Alright,' 'It Ain't Me, Babe,' 'Simple Twist of Fate'

7. Ingrid Michaelson
Sound: female singer/songwriter; more talented than Jewel, warmer than Ani
Found: opening for Matt Nathanson in CT
Key Tracks: 'The Chain,' 'The Hat,' 'You and I'

8. Jack's Mannequin
Sound: Something Corporate changes it's name and rocks a wee bit harder
Found: through SoCo, which is turn was found through mix cds my friends made me in high school
Key Tracks: 'I'm Ready,' 'Hammers and Strings (A Lullaby),' 'Into the Airwaves'

9. The New Amsterdams
Sound: The Get Up Kids' more melodic and less electronic side project
Found: Vagrant records sampler purchased during my Hot Topic glory days
Key Tracks: 'All our Vice,' 'Spoils of the Spoiled,' 'Turn Out the Light,' 'Idaho'

There should be 10, because that would make it a nice, rounded list. But you know what? Life isn't like that. That, and I'm indecisive.

Coffee has kicked in. Illyria, here I come.

A Collection of Things

2009-08-31T09:23:00.001-07:00

New temp jobs, new opportunity to post random thoughts that meander through my brain. Let's begin.

1. If there are lots of empty seats on a train or bus, including many that are next to each, don't sit next to me. Why would you do that? Don't you want a seat to yourself?

2. From Slate.com: "I didn't know how much I wanted to see Don Draper vault over a bar and chat up a Southwestern stranger while mixing an old-fashioned (with rye) until I saw him do it in this scene." Yes.

3. Is it weird that most of the new music I discover these days comes from television? And, more often than not, commercials?

4. As much as I love Vogue, there is something perverse and profoundly dillusional about any publication that shows you &490 hats as "bargain buys." On a similar note, it was just downright cruel for Real Simple to feature a $2,000 Prada bag on the cover of their 'Dress for Less' issue. Totally not okay.

5. 'Julie & Julia' is a great movie, mostly because Meryl Streep as Julia Child is a treasure and Amy Adams is just so likeable she makes it reasonably easy to ignore how dislikeable Julie Powell is. Also, was excited to see Kacie S. in it. I know people who know her!

Almost time for lunch, where I will drink another Diet Coke and savor the feeling of my teeth rotting from the inside out.

A Twist on the Movie Title Game

2009-07-09T11:23:00.000-07:00

Slate, inspired by Transformers, ran a contest for movie titles based off of toys?

My favorites? He-Man and the Infinite Sadness and Night of the Cabbage Patch Kids—This Time, Your Vegetables Will Finish You.

Snark Attack 2

2009-07-08T08:03:00.000-07:00

I wanted to get my thoughts out before I read any other reviews of Lear, specifically The Washington Post's, since I knew they were pretty much universally complimentary.

Sure enough, WaPo practically (to use a slighly vulgar term picked up from Victoria) licks the production. You can read it here.

I understand that my own thoughts are catty and harsh and come imbued with a certain "I know better" tone. I don't know better and I certainly don't think I could do better, but the problem is I care passionately about how Shakespeare is both presented and perceived today, and I think there are problems. And I get riled up. And then I get bitchy.

Basically, I just wanted to let you all know I recognize that. And that I don't think I am the be-all and end-all and that I know these are talented people working on these productions I shred. It's just that, because I know they are talented, I expect more, which leads to great disappointment.

Um...that's it, really. Just wanted to apologize for sounding like a crazed militant. I kind of am, but that doesn't make it less obnoxious.

And if you see Lear, I want to know what you think of it! Especially if you disagree. Maybe I'm just not getting something.

Snark Attack

2009-07-08T06:54:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to write a reasoned, well-structured and snob-free review of the production of King Lear I saw last night, and it's proving incredibly difficult, both to structure and to sanitize. To get it out of my system, I'm going to vent about it here, and then maybe a) I won't feel the need to be so cruel and b) I can have a starting point from which to edit my thoughts. Huzzah.

First, a confession. Well, two confessions. The first is that, while I firmly believe Shakespeare is meant to be performed, I vastly prefer reading the tragedies to seeing them. They are very, very difficult to perform in a way that sustains interest, or so I am led to believe by the productions I have seen. Second confession is that I have seen less Shakespeare than I should at this point in my Shakespeare-loving career, and as a result this is only the second Lear I've encountered. The first was the superb and all around sublime RSC production with Ian McKellen. That production proved that the play is capable of being performed in a compelling and nuanced fashion, but so that I don't come across as a total snob I'm going to try and refrain from referencing it in my thoughts on the STC's.

Ugh. Where to begin? This production was set in 1990's Yugoslavia, which immediately presents a difficulty since so much of the action of the play is driven by letters being intercepted or going astray. Lear's daughters can afford luscious fur coats but not land-line telephones? Questionable. A minor detail such as this could be forgiven in a stronger production, but when so many problems pile up it just gets added to a very long list.

My major complaint is that the production violated what should be the cardinal commandment of Shakespeare: Thou shalt not be boring. It draaaaaaaaagged through its three hours, devoid of any spark or energy that such a wonderfully complex play is capable of. I asked Gracie, if this was the way you were introduced to Shakespeare, would you want to see more? Her answer was "not really," and that cannot be excused from a company like the STC. You are placing yourself as a premiere company for Shakespeare performance,! You have a responsibility!

Furthermore (and I've ranted about this before), you are doing a straight-forward production. Okay, so you have lots of sex and violence and cars and white body bags (oh, we will get to those my friends). That doesn't mean you are being particularly creative, it just means you have a big budget and a poor editorial eye. It is my strongly held opinion that, if you are doing a traditional (in terms of story telling) production of any Shakespeare play, then you better damn well do a good job of it because you are not saying anything new. We already know that Lear is about war, and destruction and bad things happening to good, bad and generally neutral people. That can't be your "in." The "in" is making those things resonate in a way we haven't or didn't expect to feel, and this production did not do that. It rested on its body bags and oral sex and eye-frying and then gave itself a big ol' pat on the back for being cutting edge, without actually making any audience impact at all.

And it's Lear, for God's sake. It's all there for you! Sex, violence, madness, humor, disguises, war, betrayal, duplicity. Yes, it's a dense play and yes, it's one of the more difficult. In my mind, that doesn't give you a pass. I'm looking at YOU, Robert Falls. You decided to pick one of Shakespeare's most difficult plays, it was your job to live up to the material. You'll get no "A for efforts" from me.

And I'm not even sure what effort was put into this. Two years ago, I saw the Rupert Gould directed Tempest, which took place in the Arctic and featured a walrus, bear skins and Ariel as a trash-can-dwelling ice vampire. I did not like, but still respected Gould's vision because he had one, it was clear and he was committed. I may not have agreed with the world he created, but I saw where his choices came from and how they fit into his overall conception. Falls gets no such respect. His bloody Balkans setting may have been consistent, but his style was not. A choreographed dance after the storm scene? A random god-mic voice over for the last lines of the play? But it was a painfully overwrought 10-minute tribute to his props department's ability to make human figures out of bed sheets that broke me. Clearly wanting us to get the already obvious WAR IS BAD message, he broke what little momentum the second half had accumulated by having members of the ensemble stagger out and pile casualties around Glouscester. It. Took. Forever. And the booming Republican scare music only underlined how melodramatic and ridiculous the whole segment was. Just when I thought it had ended, and was getting over my disappointment that the figures were NOT positioned to spell out "Lear," two army nurses came out and began to, also exceedingly slowly, pitch the dummies into the large trap at the front of the stage. Memo to Falls: I GET IT.

Aaaaand another thing. Shocking moments aren't shocking if you don't give a fig about the people involved. You want to stuff Kent into tires, douse him with gasoline and light him on fire? Go right ahead. You want to pluck out Gloucester's eyes, fry them, and stuff them in his mouth? Eh, it probably won't taste good, but don't let that stop you. Oh, you want to rape your treacherous wife from behind? Okay, but use a condom; you don't know where she's been. To incite true horror or disgust or concern or any emotion about any of these things, you have to establish some kind of emotional connection. Otherwise it's just sadly obvious that you are trying to shock me as a bid for adding "edge" to your production.

The staging is clearly Falls' fault. The lack-luster performances...I don't know who to blame. I didn't feel anyone in the production committed to any kind of character narrative, so all interactions felt superficial at best, especially among the sisters. The moment with the most potential to be affecting was the deaths of Goneril and Regan, but it could have had a lot more punch if there had been a clearer relationship built up between them. As it stood, we only saw they were close at the beginning and not at the end, and that was pretty much the extent of any relationship. Points A and Z and nothing in between.

Keach's performance, I thought, only really got going when he lost his mind, and maybe that's because madness requires no real narrative and inherently prevents connection with those around you. Until the "reason not the need" scene, I felt like I was watching the Macy's Santa reciting Shakespeare quotes at an employee's holiday party. And he was the best! I enjoyed Jonno Roberts as Edmund as well, but that's because Edmund is a sexy part and I'm prone to like him, not because I thought the performance was particularly captivating.

*sigh* In general, the evening left me depressed. This is the best we can do? This? And everyone loves it? Loves it so much that they felt it had to be done again, as opposed to another production that might have said something about something?

And we wonder why Shakespeare is trouble.

I Read Vanity Fair So You Don't Have To (And Other Stories)

2009-07-07T10:58:00.000-07:00

If this were a conversation, rather than a blog post, it would be continuously and spontaneously interrupted by my bursting out with random lyrics from Taylor Swift's 'Love Story' since that song is now inexplicably embedded in my brain. Luckily for you, it IS a blog post and I don't have the energy or investment to interject my thoughts with typed out lyrics. Consider yourselves blessed.

While Alec, and others of a higher intellectual capacity than myself, go to New Yorker for their high-falutin' magazine needs, I have developed a deep love for the one-rung-lower Vanity Fair. I've always had some sort of affection for the 'zine, mostly built around its stunning photographs of Hollywood stars and the true crime writings of Dominic Dunne, but I've recently found myself reading it cover to cover and enjoying every bit of it. The most recent issue is especially good, which is why I'm now going to indulge in a little recap and reflection.

What's a Culture Snob to Do? by James Wolcott Possibly my favorite article of the issue was the first one I read, a look by Wolcott at how the digitization of things like books and music is changing how we define ourselves and how we telegraph that definition to others. His first example is the New York City subway as travelling library, where you can judge those reading Twilight and simultaneously show off your Strand purchased copy of The Sound and the Fury (or whatever it is that passe for intellectual these days). An on-again-off-again New Yorker myself, I 100% understand where he's coming from. I often would take stock of my fellow passengers and their reading material while on the 6 and, yes, I also developed insta-crushes on any male in my age bracket caught reading something I deemed crush-worthy (which, if you know me, is almost anything...reading is sexy, guys, keep doing it). Seeing someone read a book you just finished or completely love, even if you don't talk, is a way of making an insta-connection in a city (and, increasingly, a world) where it's easy and acceptable to cut yourself off. Likewise, brandishing a tome of your own is a way of inviting conversation, albeit a somewhat passive aggressive way. It's putting a little bit of yourself out there, and I like that.

Wolcott goes on to examine music and DVDs. Here, again, I am guilty. Despite owning everything as an MP3, I try and eventually grab all of my music in hard copy form as well, mostly because I like the way they look and I like a scan of my music collection says about me as a person. In this case, it's less about conveying that message to others, since I don't think anyone (save my mother or my sister searching for a pilfered CD) has ever seen my music in its non-computerized form, but I like it. Ditto with DVDs. As egotistical as it is, I like surrounding myself with reflections of myself. In moments of doubt I can look around me and say "Well, I don't know what I'm doing with my life, but I do know I'm the kind of person who has both "The Royal Tenenbaums" AND "The Care Bears Movie," and so I think I'm doing okay." It's totally weird and doesn't make any difference in the long run, but I like it.

Which is Wolcott's point. What would give me that feeling if I didn't have these collections of things as touch stones? In myself? In some higher, more cerebral way would I still be able to define myself? They are interesting questions, and, having had only a few hours to process them, I don't have the answers yet. But I will enjoy puzzling.

No, Prime Minister by Christopher Hitchens A two-page sketch of the "Nixonian" monster British Prime Minister Gordon Brown has become. I admit, my Anglophilia has not quite gone so far as to absorb their politics (I'm only now engaging with ours on any real level), but it was illuminating insofar as that I had no idea he was so nutty.

Politico's Washington Coup by Michael Wolff Politico became my gold-standard website for election coverage last fall. I mourn the loss of the GOP/Dem blogs now that the campaigns are done, but I still check in occasionally to see what's going on down the street, so I enjoyed the look at how Politico both came and continues to be. The ultra-specific/ultra-general dichotomy between Politico and large media outlets like The Washington Post is interesting and makes me regret even more the failure of TIME magazine's experiment in personalized news (sadly, the name of that publication has already slipped my memory).

I worry about the death of print anything, in part because of the issue presented by Wolcott, but also because I just genuinely prefer words on a page rather than words on a screen. It was reassuring, then, to find out the Poltico website gave birth to the publication as opposed to vice-versa, but I still worry. The sheer immediacy is what makes the website and the blogosphere exciting, and, because of that immediacy, information is parsed out in bite-sized morsels. If you're working a temp job, that's invaluable for entertainment and time-killing reasons, but in the real world? Does that help or hurt? Not sure. Furthermore, the accusation that Politico feeds into insider-only atmosphere of Washington is valid. The campaign was different because everything led back to two (or four) main players, but now the site has become are more obtuse, for better or worse.

The Last Days of Heath by Bruce Weber I'm still upset by the death of Heath Ledger. Nothing in this article is really new or ground breaking, save maybe for further insight into his last movie, but it does remind you that we lost someone of incredible promise.

Of course, there's a part of me that questions why we still need to be talking about it, or why any celebrity's death garners the attention it gets. I didn't know this man in any way and any further discussion seems to border on voyeurism. As a co-worker of mine just pointed out RE: The Michael Jackson memorial, he was a talented guy, but what about the seven soldiers killed in Afghanistan yesterday? Why don't we hear about them? Why do I know Heath Ledger's massage schedule but not their names?

And yet, I read the article. So I guess there's the answer right there.

It Came From Wasilla by Todd S. Purdum This is it! The one! The profile of everyone's favorite bat-shit crazy wingnut pitbull in lipstick we've all been hearin' tell about, you betcha! And...I don't know that we learn anything new, though there was this delightful tidbit:

More than once in my travels in Alaska, people brought up, without prompting,
the question of Palin's extravagant self-regard. Several told me, independently
of one another, that they had consulted the definition of "narcissistic
personality disorder' in the Diagnostic Manual of Mental
Disorders...and thought it fit her perfectly.When Trig was born, Palin
wrote an e-mail letter to friends and relatives, describing the belated news of
her pregnancy and detailing Trig's condition; she wrote the -mail not in her her
own name, but in God's, and signed it "Trig's Creator, Your Heavenly Father."

Also illuminating was the fact that she basically blew off any kind of interview or debate prep they attempted to give her and she basically doesn't seemed engaged with any issue whatsoever.

In case you haven't picked up on it, I am not a Palin fan. To speak truth, I loathe the woman. Loathe. The site of her brings with it a rising of bile and (occasionally) an audible sound of disgust mixed with strangled rage. Her nomination acceptance speech brought tears to my eyes that not only did I share citizenship with this woman, but I lived in country with people who thought her fantastic. If I ever wound up in the same room as her, I would have to leave. I see her as a real-live Dolores Umbridge only so much worse and it is my fervent prayer her stepping down from the governor's office means she she can crawl back into her polar-bear-pelt-lined cave of ignorance and self righteousness and never bother us again. But, alas, I fear it is not to be.

I often preach hearing out the other side and trying to see the best in people, but that woman drives me to a place no other being can.

...oh, but the article...yeah. It's good. Go read it.

//

And I haven't even gotten to my responses on Julia Child, the Tim Burton "Alice" photos or the 1930's film portfolio! Do you see why I love this magazine? It's fantastic.

There were also some musings on health care reform I was going to get into (I can sense your disappointment from here), but I feel I'm already pushing the limits of your patience and attention span. Best to quite while I'm only slightly behind. Besides, there's a whole three days more of temp job excitement. Can't waste all my insights now, can I?

Oh, and in case you were wondering...I did in fact finish I am Charlotte Simmons yesterday. It did nothing to change my overall feelings towards the book and only wound up irritating me more. It seemed Wolfe suffered from "I have to get this finished so I will wrap it up without any real detail" disease (much as I am doing now) and while I appreciated him giving her life some ambiguity, the whole thing was too nicely wrapped up to leave me satisfied.

So. That's that.

I am NOT Charlotte Simmons

2009-07-06T05:38:00.000-07:00

I am currently about 5/7 through the enormous Tom Wolfe tome that is I am Charlotte Simmons, and while it is probably more...journalistically acceptable? to wait until I've finished the whole thing before writing my thoughts on it, I'm too impatient and my reactions are too strong. Which is, I guess, a good thing, this eliciting of strong response, but I'm not sure that's enough to calling it a good book. Because despite being highly readable, I also find it loathsome in many ways.

These two ways can be divided into the micro and the macro, so we'll start with the micro first: the actual character of Charlotte Simmons.

For those of you who don't know the book (it came out four years ago t much media attention, but I'm unsure how much it actually entered the collective consciousness), it tells the story of young Charlotte Simmons from the little mountain town of Sparta, North Carolina, coming to the prestigious (and fictitious) Ivy League Dupont University for her freshmen year of college. While the story focuses on Charlotte, we also follow tangentially a frat boy named Hoyt, a basketball player named Jojo and a brainiac named Adam. That's really all you need know.

Back to Charlotte. She, just like the book, bothers me on both a micro and macro level and, like my overall thoughts on the book, we'll start with the micro here, too. Wolfe, it seems, gave Charlotte a (population: 900) small town background so as to distance her as much as possible from the version of her generation she encounters at Dupont. This is probably smart from an authorial stand point because Tom Wolfe is a 70-something white man and also far outside the universe of the 20-something collegiate, so Charlotte's own discomfort and unfamiliarity can parallel his own and give him a way in. Fine. And, I have to say, I don't think that he does a bad job with it. Charlotte is obnoxious, to be sure, but that doesn't make her necessarily untrue. ..to a point.

Besides being small-town and gorgeous (and we'll address this later), Charlotte is also supposed to be a genius and former high school track star. These two things make the level of her naivete, in my mind, completely implausible because they take away the security blanket of small-town sheltering. We see through the book that, yes, she really is a genius. She knows pretty much everything about everything and has huge exposure to the world in terms of books. This shouldn't give her social skills, but it should give her the awareness that people are somewhat rough and tumble. And as for the track thing, it means she's been in contact with other teenagers, other high schools. That doesn't mean she shouldn't be overwhelmed by college life, but having a minor internal freak out because her roommate says the word "shit"? Really? You're telling me that four years of high school, during which she routinely was around other high schools (and therefore, other teenagers with varied upbringings) she never heard the word "shit"? I find that hard to believe. It's that level of doe-eyed innocence we're talking about, and I don't quite buy it.

Now before I get into the macro, I want to point out that I am sure most or all of what I'm about to say can be said about guys as well. I'm not trying to take up the "media expectations" banner for females alone. It's just that a) I am a girl and b) I'm particularly concerned about the female character (if I start writing about the males in the book, I'll wind up with a book of my own). So understand that all that is about to follow is written about girls, but not with the assumption that you guys don't deal with it, too. Okay? okay. The macro.

Charlotte, as previously mentioned, is supposed to be gorgeous. Fine, I can live with that. Why we can't have an average girl as a heroine, I don't know. Why we can't even have just a pretty girl instead of model-beautiful is also beyond me, but I guess it makes for good copy. But there are, according to this book, lots of model-beautiful girls on campus and certainly many, many attractive ones. And I'm guessing that, in this fictional world, a lot of those girls have vastly superior social skills to those of our Ms. Simmons, not to mention a better fashion sense (the Prairie-Home-Companion nature of her outfits is commented on repeatedly). So why why WHY does every single guy she meets fall for her? I get that a gorgeous girl, even one awkward and poorly dressed, can attract attention, but inspiring full-on pursuit? Fights? I don't buy that. I hate this idea of "the" girl, the one that everyone wants and has to have in some way and will stop at nothing to get. I accept those girls exist, but I don't accept that Charlotte Simmons is that kind of girl. She is prissy and self-righteous and awkward and whatever charms her "innocence" has is not enough, in my opinion, to overcome the impatience it seems anyone who meets her must eventually feel. And I could buy the one frat brother looking on her as a challenge, or a game, but not everyone she ever meets possessing a Y-chromosome. That's not real, not in the way Wolfe is presenting it.

And that's what bothers me. We hear a lot about the pressure put on girls to look a certain way by the media, and I think it's there, though I also think male reaction to the media is really what drives it home. Making Charlotte gorgeous feeds into this because it seems the only reason any guy wants her, really, is her looks, which serves the double purpose of saying a) guys will want you if you're hot and b) being hot excuses a multitude of personality flaws. Neither of which I like, but neither of which bother me as much as her personality, which is presented as somehow being attractive as well. She's annoying, she's obnoxious, she's self-righteous, painfully (neigh, stupidly) naive and she's weak-willed. Yet somehow, this is attractive? This is what I should want to be, because even though I hate it, the guys eat it up? Or this is what I can be, if only I'm really really hot? Either way, I hate the implication.

I was going to go on about the personality pressures put on girls, but I'm running out of steam and I haven't even gotten to why the book really bothers me. So, onto that.

As I think I mentioned, I'm finding the book highly readable. It's almost 700 pages and I've been blowing through it and, for all of my issues with the main character, I haven't been tempted to throw it across the room like with the Twilight series (no judgments, it was a cultural phenomenon, I had to stay up-to-date). And, I have to say, save for the aforementioned (I love that word) qualms about the plausibility of Charlotte herself, I find a lot of it to be quite accurate, save for one thing: the inevitability of it all. There is a driving sense that this is what happens at college, period, the end, no discussion. If you are 18 and female and going into freshmen year, you will become a tragic example of peer pressure gone awry, unless you instead become a slut or a militant loser. As for you boys, you will either be hot and have shit-for-brains and stone-for-heart OR be average looking and capable of having a conversation. There is no other alternative. And don't even think about doing homework or caring about anything besides getting laid or getting revenge on the guys that picked on you because you will be ridiculed and destroyed.

We are not like that, not all of us, and I absolutely resent the implication otherwise. That there is no other alternative, that this is how it is. My generation has more to offer than that. There's drinking, there's sex, but the pursuit of one or both doesn't come at the exclusion of everything else. We work for things, we care about things, we make connections based more on looks and one-upmanship, and that Wolfe doesn't show even an ounce of that is infuriating to me. When this books came out there was a lot of emphasis placed on how this is what was really going on on campuses these days. This i what your son or daughter was really up to, this was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And yes, it is true, but it's not the whole truth and it's not the last word, and I feel especially coming from an author such as Tom Wolfe it does get this aura of credibility and infallibility it just doesn't deserve. We are worth more than this book implies! The destruction of our souls, morals and ambitions is not inevitably linked with that college acceptance letter!

I'm sure there's more I want to say on this subject, but I'll let it rest for now. Have any of you read this book? Do you have thoughts? Am I totally overreacting, as I am wont to do? Talk me down.

Shakespeare Movie Marathon

2009-06-21T10:23:00.000-07:00

Woke up on Saturday full of vigor and planning to do many a constructive thing with my weekend, and was greeted with sheets of rain cascading down upon my little town, promptly sapping me of all energy. After some debate as to how to amend my plans, it struck me that there are many holes in my cinematic Shakespeare eduction and so decided that remedying this would be the new focus of my weekend.

I went out to Barnes & Noble during a brief gap in the downpour and came back only to find that the storm had completely abated and the sun was shining. I forged ahead with my plans.

O: I will include this in the recap though it was actually viewed on Friday evening during a room-cleaning spree and therefore lies outside my marathons plans. O was made in 1999, with release being pushed back until 2001 due to outbreak of school violence at the time (including the Columbine shooting). Starring Mekhi Phifer, Josh Hartnett and Julia Stiles, it's a modern language adaptation of Shakespeare's Othello set in what appears to be a present-day North Carolina boarding school.

I found the translation to be quite clever. in this new telling Othello becomes Odin James, star basketball player, with Hugo (Iago) and Michael Cassio (Cassio) his fellow players. Odin, or O, is dating the dean's daughter, Desi (Desdemona), the object of affection for school outcast Rodger (Roderigo). Hugo is slighted when O chooses to share his MVP prize with Michael and thus the events of the play are set into motion.

Where the movies strength's really lie is in the cleverness of the detail. The race question is tamped down, though its setting below the Mason-Dixon allows for it to still have some impact. Hugo is the coach's son, which, coupled with some acknowledged but not overblown steroid use, explains his 'motiveless malignancy.' Rodger's persecution at the hands of the jocks, including Michael, strengthens the idea that he could be driven to killing. Throughout the whole movie, Shakespeare's words are cleverly updated to fit the time and yet contain an echo of the original work.

As an exercise in Shakespeare adaptation, I thought it was quite entertaining and enjoyable. I have no idea if others will find it so, but if you're writing a paper or studying Othello, I would definitely recommend.

Julius Caesar: A 1953 version of Julius Caesar with John Gielgud, Marlon Brando AND Deborah Kerr? Count me in.

The movie was pretty much exactly what you would expect from that description. No great fiddling with the text, black and white, everyone in togas and armor reminiscent of the plastic kids sets you can buy at Renn Fairs. Still, the language is remarkable, and even if James Mason is a little emo as a conflicted Brutus, Gielgud's Cassius is delightfully scheming and Brando's Anthony great fun. The dueling eulogies are a masterwork of writing and aptly played as such by the two actors. Only Shakespeare can make the word "honorable" becomes so horrid.

Henry V: Out of all of my imaginary boyfriends, no one holds my heart like Kenneth Branagh, which is why it shocked so many people to learn I had never seen Henry V, his first and most celebrated Shakespeare adaptation. Upon watching it, my love tripled. It is glorious. Not so much wildly innovative (though the use of the brilliant Derek Jacobi as chorus was an inspired stroke) and brilliantly clear compelling story telling. Its strength lies in its simplicity and its performances and...i just can't say enough good things about it.

So instead of prattling on, I'll let you watch a bit for yourself:

...right? Right? I know.

But remember, he's mine.

Somebody Gets It!

2009-06-19T06:09:00.001-07:00

(Okay, so before I talk about what I meant to talk about...how am I only just discovering Slate? Where have I been? It seems like someone went "hey, let's write about everything emma loves and/or wonders about and put those articles in one place." Infinite kudos to Carrie for leading me here.)

I am a TV junkie. I'm not proud of it, but I admit it freely. My already crack-like habit was ratcheted up while I was in England, when streaming American TV over breakfast became a closely held ritual that simultaneously kept me entertained, provided a bit of home comfort and (on days when I watched House or Grey's Anatomy) severely curbed my appetite. besides the medical dramas, I'm also a crime addict. NCIS, CSI (but only Las Vegas or Miami...New York is worthless), Law & Order: SVU and Numb3rs are all must watch for me. Add to the mix the latest Joss Whedon offering, Dollhouse, and you can see how my week is quickly eaten up.

But even with that embarrassingly long of shows, I still need more. Which brings me to the most shameful element of my TV obsession: reality TV. I adore it. There are very few reality TV shows that I won't watch and quickly become obsessed with (those few exceptions include American Idol, anything involving Tila Tequila or Flavor Flav and the mind-numbing uselessness that is The Hills). AMNT? Check. Project Runway? You got it. Rock of Love? More! So You Think You Can Dance? Bring it on. Top Chef? Hell's Kitchen? The Biggest Loser? Charm School? If it involves food, dancing, fashion or former lead singers of Poison, I dare you to try and keep me away. Even the ones I don't follow religiously are able to suck me in for an episode or two should they come across my channel surfing.

But the mother of all of these trashy, low-brow guilty pleasure is any iteration of The Real World/Road Rules Challenge. I absolutely adore them, have watched them for years, know way too much about every player and just can't stop. Even my former roommates, Jacey and Jo, who would happily settle down to the Sunday night line-up of My Fair Brady and Scott Baio is 45 and Single couldn't bring themselves to watch an hour of self-obsessed 20-somethings tackle each other in Gladiator-like challenges before drinking themselves into oblivion.

Which is is why I was so happy to read this article from Slate. I am not alone!

Now, to go find some reruns...

140 Character Witticisms

2009-06-19T05:28:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'll admit it...I love twitter. I didn't think I would, I thought it was superfluous, I thought I'd never use it. But no, it's amazing. Besides it's current "higher calling" of keeping all us privileged Westerners abreast of the situation in Iran, it also serves the totally low-brow purpose of being just damn entertaining. Mindy Kaling, Sockington and Ana Marie Cox's feeds routinely make me laugh out loud, not to mention the offerings of my criminally clever friends, such as Sam. It's let me keep in touch with my friends in England better than any other form of communication I know, not to mention being helpful in tracking London theater reviews and White House initiatives. The uses for Twitter for endless!

It's also a hilarious tool politicians use to get themselves in trouble . I follow a few, such as my senator Mark Warner and the ever-awesome Claire McCaskill, and so far they have managed to avoid causing any real ruckus. The Republicans seem to have that under control.

Case in point, Pete Hoekstra comparing the GOP struggles in Congress to the situation in Iran. Um...what?

Luckily, as is evidenced by this article from Alec, Twitter has another noble purpose...heckling!

My favorite?

netw3rk @petehoekstra Someone walked in on me while I was in the bathroom. Reminded me of Pearl Harbor.

Ah, genius.

Speak the Speech

2009-06-18T10:43:00.000-07:00

Via Carrie, an article from Slate on Shakespeare in the Park and how to speak Shakespeare, as recommended by Barry Edelstein.

I, of course, have a fond attachment for Shakespeare in the Park, having been lucky enough to work at the Public Theater for a year (and to be returning for the gala next week!), but I have uneasy feelings about it being pretty much THE place for Shakespeare in New York (and consequentially, the US), based mostly on the productions I've seen lacking an understanding of Shakespeare's text. This might be something that changes over time, now that Barry's there, but he was there for Hamlet and non of my mixed feelings were evened out.

Also, it must be acknowledged that, while Barry Edelstein is probably a genius and someone likely to be added to my pantheon of idols once I get around to reading his book (Edward Hall, the Zeus of my Shakespearean Olympus, is also mentioned in the article), I'm also pretty sure he once knowingly locked me out of a building. Evidence is circumstantial, but until his name is positively cleared, I always regard him with a single raised eyebrow.

You're Welcome, Joss Whedon

2009-06-17T08:56:00.000-07:00

11:52am emma
oh my gracious! how meta would this be
have a client
who is a huge firefly fan
hire a doll
to be one of them for the day
so he can live an adventure
11:53am Victoria
i'd be that client
11:53am emma
oh my gosh, that would be genius
can you imagine how much fun that episode would be?
11:54am Victoria
a lot
a very very lot

It's Today

2009-06-17T06:33:00.000-07:00

Via The New York Times:

On June 17, 1928, Amelia Earhart embarked on the first trans-Atlantic flight by a woman. She flew from Newfoundland to Wales in about 21 hours.

A Little Free-Style Broadway Rappin' to Start Your Day?

2009-06-17T03:58:00.000-07:00

Ask and yee shall receive...

Off the Page

2009-06-16T13:55:00.001-07:00

Via The Atlantic, an article on the problems with adapting the Harry Potter books for the big screen.

I Went to School With These People

2009-06-16T12:18:00.000-07:00

Via Overheard in New York:

Guy #1: May I presuppose what I think you're trying to articulate, which is, that the core universality of your character's arc needs to be explicitly emphasized in the color palate?
Guy #2: I think that's fair, but I'm not sure you can go there with an audience.
Guy #1: But isn't the whole narrative journey bringing them there?
Guy #2: Yes and no. Essentially we can't bring them there, because we can't get there ourselves.
Guy #1: Hmmm, I'm not sure if I agree with that.
Guy #2: We can't get there. Our protagonist can't get there, he can't bring us there with him.
Guy #1: Where?
Guy #2: The river.
Guy #1: Why is he going to the river?
Guy #2: Because that's--that's--that's the thing. That's the thing he has to do. It's like, he is that river, and that's why we go to a wide-shot there.
Guy #1: I do see the wide-shot there, but I think we need more exposition for the catharsis to work.

--Think Coffee, 3rd & Mercer

So, I Think He Can Dance

2009-06-16T11:42:00.000-07:00

Just so you don't think I'm all gloom-and-doom-and-civil-liberties, here's the SYTYCD audition from my boy, Evan Kasprzak:

Oh, Ryan. I love you as well.

Just a Little Bit of History Repeating

2009-06-16T11:08:00.001-07:00

Am currently reading the (deservedly) much-lauded Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln. Right now, we're in the 1850's, caught up in the explosively turbulent period leading up the Civil War, specifically the caning of Charles Sumner.

I always forget the caning of Charles Sumner, as, I'm sure, do most people. I'm an enthusiastic Civil Way buff and yet, if pressed to name senators from the period I would maybe, maybe be able to hit upon the name Henry Clay or Daniel Webster. Maybe. And certainly not both. Sumner is less a person and more of an event, and even that event is more a title, as if it were a one-act play. "The Caning of Sumner." It rolls off the tongue and is just as easily dismissed as being something distantly remote, but when you actually pause to think about it...what the hell. A United States senator beat a fellow senator almost to death on the floor of the Senate. That's extraordinary, that that could happen. That that did happen. But then Doris Kearn Goodwin goes on to describe the reaction:

"More ominous still was the reaction of the distinguished Richmond Whig, a professed opponent of extremism on sectional issues. 'We are rejoiced at this, ' the Whig proclaimed. 'The only regret we feel is, that Mr. Brooks did not employ a horsewhip or a cowhide upon his slanderous back, instead of a cane. We trust the ball may be kept in motion. Seward and others should catch it next.' The Petersburg [Virginian] Intelligencer sounded a similar theme. 'If thrashing is the only remedy by which the foul conduct of the Abolitionists can be controlled...it will be very well to give Seward a double dose at least every other day until it operates freely on his political bowels...his adroit demagoguism and damnable doctrines are infinitely more dangerous to the country than the coarse blackguardism of the perjured wretch, Sumner.' The antipodal reactions of North and South, David Donald notes, made it 'apparent that something dangerous was happening to the American union when the two sections no longer spoke the same language, but employed rival sets of cliches to describe the Brooks-Sumner affair.'"
- Team of Rivals: the Political genius of Abraham Lincoln, Doris Kearn Goodwin

I'm not saying that we, as a country, are on the brink of a Civil War like that of 1860. I'm not even sure we're necessarily on the brink of a culture war, though that seems more likely. I'm just saying that this idea of language and talking, on being quick to condemn the other side and trumpet your own no matter what either does...doesn't it all sound a bit familiar? And shouldn't we maybe be more aware of that familiarity?

My man, Shelby Foote, said that "Any understanding of this nation has to be based, and I mean really based, on an understanding of the Civil War. I believe that firmly. It defined us," and I tend to agree. It was such a defining moment in our history, a turning point really, and one we are in some ways still recovering from. But it's not enough to look at the aftermath; we need to keep in mind how we got there. I'm highly doubtful we'll ever get to the point again where states decide to sucede from the Union and, if they did, I'm not sure a war would be declared (really, would we miss Texas? If Alaska goes AWOL, would anyone notice?) but that kind of animosity towards your own fellow citizens I think we're more than capable of. In some ways, we might be there already.

I didn't mean for this to be a history blog, or a political blog or a blog where I endlessly rehash the ideas of speech and fairness and whatever else I've been going about since I started this. It just became a perfect storm...the recent incidents of poltical violence here, the ongoing turmoil in Iran and a book on the Civil War. They all feed into each other and therefore color my thoughts which then results in me musing over the ideas in 500-word mini essays on blogger.

I'm big on awareness these days. Awarness of how you sound, of how the other side thinks, of context, of responsibility. I'm wearing green today, and will probably be for awhile, not because I think it makes a difference to the Iranina protestors that I, emma, U.S. citizen temping in an office park, am wearing green, but because maybe someone will notice and ask me and then I'll explain about Iran and then they'll know something they didn't before and at least become aware of the situation. That's the only way I can think of to help right now, but I hope it's at least something.

A Little Thing

2009-06-15T18:26:00.000-07:00

Via Andrew Sullivan (because what isn't, these days?), here is a graphic you can use on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, what have you, to show support for the Iranian protestors:

It's such a little thing, but I think it's really important, if not to let them know we support them and believe in what they're doing, than to spread awareness of what is going on. I don't think enough people know.

Take it, use it, pass it on. This is too big to not care.

Freedom Of

2009-06-15T10:40:00.000-07:00

Citizens assemble with the sole goal of declaring that they disapprove of the course of government. To meddle in the government of society and to speak about it is the greatest business and, so to speak, the only pleasure America knows...
- Alexis de Tocqueville

As I continue to follow the news out of Iran, I am more and more grateful to our country and its founders for providing us with the freedom, security and relative stability that allows us to assemble and disapprove without the fear of beatings, shootings or arrests. I think we all take it for granted...I know I do. We are such a young country, and it took us awhile to get to a place where it's at least commonly held that all men (and women) are created equal, but that we did? That, for all the work we have yet to do, we have done so much? I think it's extraordinary.

But in the wake of all of this new found appreciation, there is also disappointment. We have the means to change our government. We have the opportunity to make our voices heard. And yet, we still turn to violence. To shoot an abortion doctor, an army recruiter, a museum crowd because that somehow seems like a better idea than any other alternative. Than using any of the vast freedom given to us or living up to the responsibility that comes with that freedom. It's abuse in the negative. Right now, in Iran, people are risking their lives so that they can have a voice, and yet, here, people would still prefer to silence the voice of others than make their own heard. It's a slap in the face of our Constiution, in my mind, besides being a horrifying display of hate.

Violence isn't the only abuse, though. We were given freedom of speech to air our greivances and engage each other in open debate, so that we could hold the government accountable as well as each other. So it saddens me when media pundits purposefully fan the flames of outrage and divisiveness for ratings. Besides lowering the tone of discussion on an issue and inciting people to the aformentioned violence, it ignores the higher and better purposes that can be achieved by sharing opinion. It's irresponsible, to say the least. But, however much I disagree with how it's used, it is their right, just as it is my right to talk about it here. It's not up to me to determine what is or is not fair game beyond voicing my thoughts on any given matter, and I think that's how it should be.

I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
-Evelyn Beatrice Hall

Tweeting the Resistance

2009-06-15T05:20:00.000-07:00

Via Andrew Sullivan, here is a list of Tweeters out of Iran. I've spent most of the weekend trying to wrap my head around what's happening there, about what these people are both going through and the courage and conviction they are demonstrating.

I rag on America sometimes for being ridiculous and eating foods like marshmallow sweet potatoes, but seeing what's happening in Iran makes me realize just how lucky I am to live in a country where this situation is pretty much unimaginable to me.

How do we support these people? How do we show them they're not alone?

By Our Powers Combined

2009-06-13T13:20:00.000-07:00

I have a serious thing for Johnny Flynn, but I mean that in a "I think his music is amazing" type way. He has yet to be added to my ever growing list of imaginary boyfriends, mostly because I'm pretty sure we have nothing in common and any conversation we could possible have would go something along the lines of "....so, uh, the sky is blue." "Yeah, really blue." and then we'd be out of things to talk about. But his music is really, really good. And he plays the violin.

Another person I have a serious non-romantic musical thing for is Laura Marling. I saw her play a gig with Johnny last fall and thought her voice was remarkable and I pretty much have to listen to at least one of her songs once a day so I can remember there is wonderful, gorgeous music out there that has nothing to with the Disney channel or Apple commercials.

You can only imagine my delight when, without even trying, I found this duet of the two of them on YouTube:

You're welcome.

Even Dr. Evil Had a Cat

2009-06-13T12:45:00.000-07:00

Being a hard-hearted cynical ex-New Yorker (I was once asked by a close friend how he too could be be "without emotions"), I like to pretend I'm not also a total softie who's prone to tear up at particularly touching Sprint and SmartBalance commercials. Posting a picture of an adorable baby animal is therefore totally against everything I stand for—a public display of sentimentality that might give people the erroneous impression I have feelings or something.

Blame Christine.

...awwwwww.