So"Mad Men" is getting even better. I'm on episode #7 of Season One and although I'm still appalled by the smoking and the sexism, the ongoing character development is awesome and the story line now with the agency debating/discussing Nixon vs. Kennedy is priceless! Oh wow, Draper was just a total dick to his wife, though.
Saw lots of tourists out tonight taking pictures of cable cars in the fog--as much as I snark on the tourists, they are good at helping me remember some of the cool aspects of living in the City.
Football sure is gay sometimes. Am watching (for not much longer, as badly as it's going) the Florida-Kentucky game and the announcer has just repeated the probably at least partly apocryphal story of Tebow telling his coach to not be afraid to lean on him, to "ride that horse." Yes, the announcer said more than once, Tebow said to his coach, and I quote, "Ride me!" My god, they look like worldbeaters but also Kentucky looks like absolute shit--kind of like Cal did earlier. And the morning started off so promising with Kansas winning and LSU looking like anything BUT worldbeaters against Miss. State. Oh well.
Um, Outback "Steakhouse" is actually promoting their third $9.99 meal as coming with a "wedge salad?" Seriously? What's next? Free tap water? Fewer ratdroppings in your "loaded" baked potato? Sorry, but I feel justified in slamming Outback coz their ower is a major homophobe. Or am I getting him confused with the owner of Carl's Jr.? Sigh. So many homophobes, so little time to expose and mock them all.
Let's end with a comparison of why we'll eventually succumb to the Germans and/or Chinese. They just don't put up with shit like we do. Witness from "News of the Weird":
Two formerly well-off retired couples in Germany, whose nest egg was largely wiped out by investments in sub-prime Florida mortgages, vented their anger by kidnapping their investment adviser, James Amburn. They took him to the vacation home of one of the couples near the Austrian border, bound him like a mummy and beat and tortured him over several days, fracturing two ribs, in repeated attempts to punish him and extort his own property as partial compensation for their losses. Police rescued him after he managed to send a coded message by fax.
Crisis Intervention: A certain bridge in Ghangzhou, China, has become popular for suicide (12 attempts in a 45-day period in April and May), and with each incident, traffic is slowed or halted for hours while crews attempt to talk the distraught person down or perform rescues. Mr. "Chen" was on the ledge in May, according to an Agence France-Presse dispatch, but he couldn't make up his mind about jumping. One frustrated motorist, Lai Jiansheng, ended the suspense by walking up to Chen and pushing him off. Chen survived, and Lai was arrested.
So the question is: should we turn over our financial leaders to the Germans or to Lai Jiansheng? Discuss.
9/27/09
Games
My roommate and I love board games. Sometimes he wins, sometimes I win. Okay, more times I win. We play a lot. We argue a lot. No matter how straightforward the rules, no matter how much we enjoy the game, we always manage to find something to argue over.
"You can't loan money," I say to him one night during a game of Monopoly. The other players freeze.
"Of course you can," he says. "We always have before."
"Show it to me in the rules," I say in my sticking-out-my-tongue tone of voice, even though my tongue remains in my mouth. For now.
His eyes glint, and he says, "Show it to me in the rules where it says you CAN'T." He is smug.
I am smug back. "It doesn't say in the rules you can't spit on the board, either, but no one does THAT." Both of us emphasize certain words when arguing--as if this will immediately cow the other into submission.
We go back and forth like this until we finally notice that all of our friends have left.
The more byzantine the rules, the more byzantine the arguments. Avalon Hill war games are notorious for their complicated, ferociously detailed rules. They have pages of rules. Chapters. Books. We each retain our own copy for quick reference.
"Ha!" I exclaim during a heated battle for control of the sea zone bordering Antarctica during a Word War II re-enactment game. "I've sunk your aircraft carrier with my sub. You automatically lose the two planes that were on board."
He shakes his head. "No way. They now defend on their own. Page 24, Section C.1, paragraph two."
I scan the offending paragraph quickly and bleat, "BUT....there is an exception for subs. See page 942, Section ZZ.113, paragraph seventeen." The argument continues as other sections are referenced and contradictions are pointed out. Unfortunately, even the King James Bible is open to less interpretation than these rules. We dump them.
"It's ludicrous to think planes could shoot at subs, anyway," I sneer.
He rolls his eyes and replies, "As if Britain would even be attacking Germany in Antarctica!"
We decide to call off the war--at least the one on the board. Neither of us ruminate on what would have happened if Churchill and Hitler had gotten in a similar snit and agreed to throw in the towel.
But, like hogs rooting for truffles, we find good stuff to argue about even when we agree on the rules.
"You're taking too long to move! Hurry up, will you?"
"I don't take any longer than YOU do."
"Do too! And quit counting your pieces! You should be doing stuff like that while I'm moving!"
"I had to use the bathroom while you were moving!"
"You always have an exuse!"
Then, when we finally DO finish a game, it's time for the sore winner/sore loser dance.
"Well, THAT was a satisfying victory!"
"I don't see why, considering I played so badly."
"Oh, please. I think I played pretty well."
"Having some good luck doesn't equal playing well."
"I made good STRATEGIC moves."
"Okay. Whatever."
"Why do you have to try and denigrate my victory?"
"I'm not. I'm denigrating my defeat."
"Which is done solely to make my victory seem less impressive."
"I couldn't POSSIBLY do that." (in rolling-my-eyes tone of voice)
"See?"
After these games, we don't speak to each other for literally HOURS, sometimes days, and leave hateful notes scattered about the apartment with quotes pulled from rulebooks. After a vile game of Checkers one night, I awoke the next morning to find an illegible note bleeding ink into my orange juice.
But eventually the urge overcomes one of us--because we enjoy games SO much--and one night, just over the buzz of the television, you hear, "So, you wanna play some Risk?"
The most appropriately named game that we own.
"You can't loan money," I say to him one night during a game of Monopoly. The other players freeze.
"Of course you can," he says. "We always have before."
"Show it to me in the rules," I say in my sticking-out-my-tongue tone of voice, even though my tongue remains in my mouth. For now.
His eyes glint, and he says, "Show it to me in the rules where it says you CAN'T." He is smug.
I am smug back. "It doesn't say in the rules you can't spit on the board, either, but no one does THAT." Both of us emphasize certain words when arguing--as if this will immediately cow the other into submission.
We go back and forth like this until we finally notice that all of our friends have left.
The more byzantine the rules, the more byzantine the arguments. Avalon Hill war games are notorious for their complicated, ferociously detailed rules. They have pages of rules. Chapters. Books. We each retain our own copy for quick reference.
"Ha!" I exclaim during a heated battle for control of the sea zone bordering Antarctica during a Word War II re-enactment game. "I've sunk your aircraft carrier with my sub. You automatically lose the two planes that were on board."
He shakes his head. "No way. They now defend on their own. Page 24, Section C.1, paragraph two."
I scan the offending paragraph quickly and bleat, "BUT....there is an exception for subs. See page 942, Section ZZ.113, paragraph seventeen." The argument continues as other sections are referenced and contradictions are pointed out. Unfortunately, even the King James Bible is open to less interpretation than these rules. We dump them.
"It's ludicrous to think planes could shoot at subs, anyway," I sneer.
He rolls his eyes and replies, "As if Britain would even be attacking Germany in Antarctica!"
We decide to call off the war--at least the one on the board. Neither of us ruminate on what would have happened if Churchill and Hitler had gotten in a similar snit and agreed to throw in the towel.
But, like hogs rooting for truffles, we find good stuff to argue about even when we agree on the rules.
"You're taking too long to move! Hurry up, will you?"
"I don't take any longer than YOU do."
"Do too! And quit counting your pieces! You should be doing stuff like that while I'm moving!"
"I had to use the bathroom while you were moving!"
"You always have an exuse!"
Then, when we finally DO finish a game, it's time for the sore winner/sore loser dance.
"Well, THAT was a satisfying victory!"
"I don't see why, considering I played so badly."
"Oh, please. I think I played pretty well."
"Having some good luck doesn't equal playing well."
"I made good STRATEGIC moves."
"Okay. Whatever."
"Why do you have to try and denigrate my victory?"
"I'm not. I'm denigrating my defeat."
"Which is done solely to make my victory seem less impressive."
"I couldn't POSSIBLY do that." (in rolling-my-eyes tone of voice)
"See?"
After these games, we don't speak to each other for literally HOURS, sometimes days, and leave hateful notes scattered about the apartment with quotes pulled from rulebooks. After a vile game of Checkers one night, I awoke the next morning to find an illegible note bleeding ink into my orange juice.
But eventually the urge overcomes one of us--because we enjoy games SO much--and one night, just over the buzz of the television, you hear, "So, you wanna play some Risk?"
The most appropriately named game that we own.
9/23/09
Little Overly Analyzed Red Riding Hood
Okay, I admit it. I like to analyze things. I've analyzed relationships until they’re beaten and lifeless; I’ve wondered what the store cashier really meant when she sighs and shakes her head over half of my grocery purchases, and then analyze why I care. However, there are some things with which even I will not put up with in regards to analysis. And fairy tales and nursery rhymes are at the top of the list.
Suddenly, childhood stories lose some of their charm when you realize that Jack was keeping his wife “very well” in a pumpkin shell because that was the easiest way to continue oppressing her. Or that Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and the lot weren’t all glamorous princesses overcoming great odds to live their dreams, but pathetic creatures chasing after men to make themselves feel “whole” or “worthy” (sorry, but snagging a cute, rich, young prince would certainly make me feel worthy, and probably even a little bit….um, never mind).
From what I’ve recently learned, though, “Little Red Riding Hood” is the all-time analyzer’s dream (dry or not). Apparently, there have even been ACADEMIC SQUABBLES over the symbolism in all the many different versions of this particular tale. The basic story, as most of us know it, is pretty much the same. Little Red Riding Hood is taking a basket of goodies to her grandmother when she meets a wolf and tells him her destination. In any case, blabbing to the wolf is her big mistake and where the differentiation in versions of the tale begins.
After talking with Red Riding Hood, the wolf gets her to pick flowers and then rushes to grandma’s house first. He then devoured or killed the old woman and either did or did not serve pieces of the body to the girl (yes, Virginia, there are some really twisted versions of this tale). Then, in an earlier version, the wolf ordered the girl to strip and throw her clothes on the fire (Mom DEFINITELY never told me this version). The wolf then ate the girl, which is the end of the story unless it’s the version where a hunter shoots the wolf with an arrow, or cuts its belly open allowing the girl and her grandmother to escape. Amazingly, in some versions, the wolf even survives this. There is even a version where the girl gets away from the wolf by saying she has to go outside and relieve herself (my personal favorite).
Now, all I remember wondering about as a child when being told this story was simply “Would I react so calmly to a talking wolf?” However, it appears that what we’re REALLY supposed to wonder about is if the red hood was a sign of sin and the devil, menstruation, or of withcraft and evil. Or was it just a plain hat? And as for the wolf, HE has been interpreted as the Id, the pleasure principle, the predatory male, the phallus, an outlaw, a demon, the animal in all of us, and/or the inherent dangerousness of a cruel (and unusual, filled-with-talking-animals) world.
So Freduians, feminists, and literary critics have a field day. Some say the girl brings on her own “rape” by straying from the path; some say the tale tries to show that only a strong male (e.g., the hunter) can rescue foolish girls from their lustful desires; and Erich From, writing WAY back in 1951, says the red cap represents mensturation, the mother’s warning to Red not to drop a bottle refers to losing her virginity, and the view of sex as a cannibalistic act performed by ruthless males is “an expression of hate and prejudice against men.” All I can say to that is, “Uh, what?”
This is why they don’t write fairy tales anymore. Can you imagine any of the stories being told to children today becoming timeless classics? Well, maybe if McDonald’s or Nike sponsors them and pays for them to be serialized. “Mommy, mommy, can we read the story of ‘Little Red-Haired Ronald McDonald’ or ‘Deion Prime-Time Sanders and the Three Pairs of Nikes?” But back to Little Red Riding Hood.
Sex, sex, sex. In most every interpretation it’s sex. Why do we get to hear this supposedly lusftul story when we’re young and thinking only “candy, Mommy is good, candy, grandma lets me do what I want, candy” instead of when we’re teenagers and thinking, “sex, Mom is evil, sex, if I have to visit grandma again I’ll scream, sex”? I still think that unless I’d been told otherwise, I would NEVER think of Little Red Riding Hood in the ways some of these people do (let us be thankful the same attention hasn’t been paid to implications of bestiality in “Goldilocks and the Three Bears”). I always thought the moral of the story was simply, "Don’t let talking wolves know where grandma lives.”
In the end, my favorite analysis comes from a Professor Vidler from Princeton who claims that the real problem in the tale was a design flaw: the weak lock on grandmother’s door. Hmmm, this must mean grandma was subconsciously “asking for it.”
Suddenly, childhood stories lose some of their charm when you realize that Jack was keeping his wife “very well” in a pumpkin shell because that was the easiest way to continue oppressing her. Or that Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and the lot weren’t all glamorous princesses overcoming great odds to live their dreams, but pathetic creatures chasing after men to make themselves feel “whole” or “worthy” (sorry, but snagging a cute, rich, young prince would certainly make me feel worthy, and probably even a little bit….um, never mind).
From what I’ve recently learned, though, “Little Red Riding Hood” is the all-time analyzer’s dream (dry or not). Apparently, there have even been ACADEMIC SQUABBLES over the symbolism in all the many different versions of this particular tale. The basic story, as most of us know it, is pretty much the same. Little Red Riding Hood is taking a basket of goodies to her grandmother when she meets a wolf and tells him her destination. In any case, blabbing to the wolf is her big mistake and where the differentiation in versions of the tale begins.
After talking with Red Riding Hood, the wolf gets her to pick flowers and then rushes to grandma’s house first. He then devoured or killed the old woman and either did or did not serve pieces of the body to the girl (yes, Virginia, there are some really twisted versions of this tale). Then, in an earlier version, the wolf ordered the girl to strip and throw her clothes on the fire (Mom DEFINITELY never told me this version). The wolf then ate the girl, which is the end of the story unless it’s the version where a hunter shoots the wolf with an arrow, or cuts its belly open allowing the girl and her grandmother to escape. Amazingly, in some versions, the wolf even survives this. There is even a version where the girl gets away from the wolf by saying she has to go outside and relieve herself (my personal favorite).
Now, all I remember wondering about as a child when being told this story was simply “Would I react so calmly to a talking wolf?” However, it appears that what we’re REALLY supposed to wonder about is if the red hood was a sign of sin and the devil, menstruation, or of withcraft and evil. Or was it just a plain hat? And as for the wolf, HE has been interpreted as the Id, the pleasure principle, the predatory male, the phallus, an outlaw, a demon, the animal in all of us, and/or the inherent dangerousness of a cruel (and unusual, filled-with-talking-animals) world.
So Freduians, feminists, and literary critics have a field day. Some say the girl brings on her own “rape” by straying from the path; some say the tale tries to show that only a strong male (e.g., the hunter) can rescue foolish girls from their lustful desires; and Erich From, writing WAY back in 1951, says the red cap represents mensturation, the mother’s warning to Red not to drop a bottle refers to losing her virginity, and the view of sex as a cannibalistic act performed by ruthless males is “an expression of hate and prejudice against men.” All I can say to that is, “Uh, what?”
This is why they don’t write fairy tales anymore. Can you imagine any of the stories being told to children today becoming timeless classics? Well, maybe if McDonald’s or Nike sponsors them and pays for them to be serialized. “Mommy, mommy, can we read the story of ‘Little Red-Haired Ronald McDonald’ or ‘Deion Prime-Time Sanders and the Three Pairs of Nikes?” But back to Little Red Riding Hood.
Sex, sex, sex. In most every interpretation it’s sex. Why do we get to hear this supposedly lusftul story when we’re young and thinking only “candy, Mommy is good, candy, grandma lets me do what I want, candy” instead of when we’re teenagers and thinking, “sex, Mom is evil, sex, if I have to visit grandma again I’ll scream, sex”? I still think that unless I’d been told otherwise, I would NEVER think of Little Red Riding Hood in the ways some of these people do (let us be thankful the same attention hasn’t been paid to implications of bestiality in “Goldilocks and the Three Bears”). I always thought the moral of the story was simply, "Don’t let talking wolves know where grandma lives.”
In the end, my favorite analysis comes from a Professor Vidler from Princeton who claims that the real problem in the tale was a design flaw: the weak lock on grandmother’s door. Hmmm, this must mean grandma was subconsciously “asking for it.”
9/21/09
Deep thoughts, cheap shots, and bon mots - the second
So whose clever idea was it for me to move back in to the City, start grad school back up again, and start a new job back at Director level, all within the course of a month? I mean, I do like keeping busy, but....
Anyway, as a result, my blogging is going to be scaled back to twice a week--at least for now. Yeah, I know, boo hoo! :)
In other news, for some reason--so far, at least--I have yet to be capable of writing about what's going on with Kyle. I guess it's just so appalling I want to escape thinking about it as much as possible. What's wild is I'm hearing from quite a few people that his/our story is not really so unusual--at least in regards to Kyle's...er...um...."lack of succes." Can't decide if that makes me feel better or not.
Saw "The Hoax" the other night and am struck at another example of the decline and fall of the American Empire. In "the old days" we had much more interesting crazy rich people like Howard Hughes - which makes the descent to Paris Hilton that much more deplorable.
Although I'm a little late to the party, I have to agree that "Mad Men" is an excellent show. The acting, the sense of place (NYC), and especially time (1960)....and my GAWD the smoking! It's amazing to think people used to smoke like that! And the sexism! Unbelievable!
So I've finally come up with a good, simple, and yet comprehensive, driving rule that will address a myriad of issues--from people not utilizing the left lane on the highway properly, to taking corners too slowly, to not turning right on red, to not accelerating on hills to maintain their speed, etc. The new rule is this: Just Get The Fuck Out of My Way! Look for it soon in the CA DMV manual.
Have to give a shout out to District 9 - definitely one of the more original Sci-Fi movies I've seen in some time. And also has some telling lessons on compassion, bigotry, and just what it is that makes us human.
Finally, I don't know if it's the worsening civility in this country, but I find myself considering turning vigilante. As most of you may know, parking in the City is a challenge at best. So it is all the more frustrating and annoying to see the losers who park right in the middle of a space between two driveways, when if they'd just pulled forward or backwards, another car could fit in front or behind. I saw just such a scenario tonightright across the street from my apartment.
I was in such a rage I wanted to either let the air out of a tire or even key the effing car! Instead, I left a snitty note on their windshield "thanking" them for being so considerate and warning them that if I saw them parked like that again, I wouldn't be so "forgiving" next time.
So here's my question: technically, what they did is not illegal--and yet, they have a neghborhood parking sticker, they have to know how difficult it is to find parking and now they've been--granted, not so politely--chastised; so would I be justified in "punishing" them if I saw them do it again? Discuss.
I honestly feel like part of why people are so selfish and clueless nowadays is because no one is called on their shit and we've been "psyched out" of using shame anymore. When I was young, I was definitely made to feel ashamed when I did something wrong. There was none of this "validation of my feelings" and/or concern to not send one into a "shame spiral." And that's probably why people like Venus Williams and Kanye West and that dick of a SC congressman pull the shit they do.
Word.
Anyway, as a result, my blogging is going to be scaled back to twice a week--at least for now. Yeah, I know, boo hoo! :)
In other news, for some reason--so far, at least--I have yet to be capable of writing about what's going on with Kyle. I guess it's just so appalling I want to escape thinking about it as much as possible. What's wild is I'm hearing from quite a few people that his/our story is not really so unusual--at least in regards to Kyle's...er...um...."lack of succes." Can't decide if that makes me feel better or not.
Saw "The Hoax" the other night and am struck at another example of the decline and fall of the American Empire. In "the old days" we had much more interesting crazy rich people like Howard Hughes - which makes the descent to Paris Hilton that much more deplorable.
Although I'm a little late to the party, I have to agree that "Mad Men" is an excellent show. The acting, the sense of place (NYC), and especially time (1960)....and my GAWD the smoking! It's amazing to think people used to smoke like that! And the sexism! Unbelievable!
So I've finally come up with a good, simple, and yet comprehensive, driving rule that will address a myriad of issues--from people not utilizing the left lane on the highway properly, to taking corners too slowly, to not turning right on red, to not accelerating on hills to maintain their speed, etc. The new rule is this: Just Get The Fuck Out of My Way! Look for it soon in the CA DMV manual.
Have to give a shout out to District 9 - definitely one of the more original Sci-Fi movies I've seen in some time. And also has some telling lessons on compassion, bigotry, and just what it is that makes us human.
Finally, I don't know if it's the worsening civility in this country, but I find myself considering turning vigilante. As most of you may know, parking in the City is a challenge at best. So it is all the more frustrating and annoying to see the losers who park right in the middle of a space between two driveways, when if they'd just pulled forward or backwards, another car could fit in front or behind. I saw just such a scenario tonightright across the street from my apartment.
I was in such a rage I wanted to either let the air out of a tire or even key the effing car! Instead, I left a snitty note on their windshield "thanking" them for being so considerate and warning them that if I saw them parked like that again, I wouldn't be so "forgiving" next time.
So here's my question: technically, what they did is not illegal--and yet, they have a neghborhood parking sticker, they have to know how difficult it is to find parking and now they've been--granted, not so politely--chastised; so would I be justified in "punishing" them if I saw them do it again? Discuss.
I honestly feel like part of why people are so selfish and clueless nowadays is because no one is called on their shit and we've been "psyched out" of using shame anymore. When I was young, I was definitely made to feel ashamed when I did something wrong. There was none of this "validation of my feelings" and/or concern to not send one into a "shame spiral." And that's probably why people like Venus Williams and Kanye West and that dick of a SC congressman pull the shit they do.
Word.
9/17/09
Cruising
WARNING: This blog was done while watching the "notorious" gay serial killer flick "Cruising" with Al Pacino. You may want to skip this if you're, um, "sensitive" regarding gay S&M matters.
Starts right off with some good old fashioned police oppression. Kinda gross, actually. So much for the cop fantasy.
Wow, the first cruise/pick-up was a hoot. "Cool. I never made it with a Martian before."
OMFG the first kill was VERY bloody/graphic. The killer has a creepy, almost unreal voice.
Wow, Al Pacino looks really young.
Ooooh, goin' undercover: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHjFxJVeCQs
OMG, it's shopkeeper Powers Boothe explaining the hanky code to Al Pacino. Too. Fucking. Weird. (and this performance is from the same year that "Guyana Tragedy" came out--which totally traumatized me)
Okay, I can't wait to see what the "psychological payoff" is going to be for this stupid sounding, "You made me do that" line. (it turns out there wasn't one--or I missed it/didn't get it! anyone?)
Oooh, Ms, Thing getting into it now - shaking her ass at the leather bar, sucking on an ether-soaked rag, snap snap snap. :) Didn't he also play gay in "Dog Day Afternoon"?
Okay, so Al Pacino was just able to call the Columbia University Registrar, not as a cop, and get the street address of a student w/o even providing a reason. Oh, such innocent, blood-drenched, S&M, gay killing days we used to live in. Sigh.
WTF? Pacino is quite the bossy little sex bitch!
I don't know which is weirder--Karen Allen as Al Pacino's wife, or a young James Remar as the pissy gay dancer neighbor (he's done a million things - inlcuding playing Dexter's dad).
Hmmm, I'm guessing the ending is supposed to be ambiguous.
Well, it's no "French Connection" or even "The Exorcist," but it wasn't as awful as I thought it'd be.
Outrageously fun/creepy fact on the movie/director to end with:
In 1972, director William Friedkin - huge after The French Connection (1971) - is shooting his spiritual/psych-horror The Exorcist (1973) in downtown New York. For a scene requiring mock brain-scans of the possessed lead character, Friedkin films a real-life radiologist and his assistant, Paul Bateson. Flash ahead to 1979. Friedkin is planning an adap of Gerald Walker’s novel ‘Cruising’, inspired by a real-life serial killer carving up leather boys in the city's underground gay-bars and dumping their body parts in the Hudson River, wrapped in black plastic bags. When he learns that his Exorcist radiologist assistant Bateson is currently awaiting trial for the post-coital slaying of gay film critic Addison Verrill, Friedkin decides to pay him a visit to do a little research into the psyche of his cruising killer. Bateson is later imprisoned for life - for the Verrill murder - but not before dropping hints while in custody that he was also the body bag killer. The latter cases remain unsolved, but there's every chance that Friedkin had not only inadvertently consulted the actual killer at the heart of Cruising while planning the film, but had also cast him in a film he made years before it.
Starts right off with some good old fashioned police oppression. Kinda gross, actually. So much for the cop fantasy.
Wow, the first cruise/pick-up was a hoot. "Cool. I never made it with a Martian before."
OMFG the first kill was VERY bloody/graphic. The killer has a creepy, almost unreal voice.
Wow, Al Pacino looks really young.
Ooooh, goin' undercover: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHjFxJVeCQs
OMG, it's shopkeeper Powers Boothe explaining the hanky code to Al Pacino. Too. Fucking. Weird. (and this performance is from the same year that "Guyana Tragedy" came out--which totally traumatized me)
Okay, I can't wait to see what the "psychological payoff" is going to be for this stupid sounding, "You made me do that" line. (it turns out there wasn't one--or I missed it/didn't get it! anyone?)
Oooh, Ms, Thing getting into it now - shaking her ass at the leather bar, sucking on an ether-soaked rag, snap snap snap. :) Didn't he also play gay in "Dog Day Afternoon"?
Okay, so Al Pacino was just able to call the Columbia University Registrar, not as a cop, and get the street address of a student w/o even providing a reason. Oh, such innocent, blood-drenched, S&M, gay killing days we used to live in. Sigh.
WTF? Pacino is quite the bossy little sex bitch!
I don't know which is weirder--Karen Allen as Al Pacino's wife, or a young James Remar as the pissy gay dancer neighbor (he's done a million things - inlcuding playing Dexter's dad).
Hmmm, I'm guessing the ending is supposed to be ambiguous.
Well, it's no "French Connection" or even "The Exorcist," but it wasn't as awful as I thought it'd be.
Outrageously fun/creepy fact on the movie/director to end with:
In 1972, director William Friedkin - huge after The French Connection (1971) - is shooting his spiritual/psych-horror The Exorcist (1973) in downtown New York. For a scene requiring mock brain-scans of the possessed lead character, Friedkin films a real-life radiologist and his assistant, Paul Bateson. Flash ahead to 1979. Friedkin is planning an adap of Gerald Walker’s novel ‘Cruising’, inspired by a real-life serial killer carving up leather boys in the city's underground gay-bars and dumping their body parts in the Hudson River, wrapped in black plastic bags. When he learns that his Exorcist radiologist assistant Bateson is currently awaiting trial for the post-coital slaying of gay film critic Addison Verrill, Friedkin decides to pay him a visit to do a little research into the psyche of his cruising killer. Bateson is later imprisoned for life - for the Verrill murder - but not before dropping hints while in custody that he was also the body bag killer. The latter cases remain unsolved, but there's every chance that Friedkin had not only inadvertently consulted the actual killer at the heart of Cruising while planning the film, but had also cast him in a film he made years before it.
9/15/09
Hey, Let's All Talk About It, Since Apparently It's So NATURAL...
Another "retro blog" featuring my old roomie David.
There are inherent differences between myself and my roommate. He has two sisters, I have two brothers; he grew up in a small town in a large state, I grew up in a large city in a small state; his mother tells him about her yeast infections, mine does not.
We--that is, my roommate and I--were watching TV not too long ago when a commercial for Product Y suddenly appeared. I say "suddenly" because no matter how well prepared you are for a commercial, it always seems sudden when said commercial spits out the words "vaginal yeast infection."
I like to think I'm open minded. I like to think a have a strong stomach. But when one of these commercials comes on, I feel like a censorious little piggy on the verge of blowing chow. The problem (for me) is that they start off so INNOCENTLY. A pretty maiden strolls down a country lane after a spring shower. Or maybe it's a spring lane after a country shower. In any case, said maiden smiles beatifically while idly twirling a daisy between thumb and forefinger.
"I love days like this," she sighs, still smiling, while sniffing the daisy. Then--SUDDENLY--she screams, "Unless I happen to be suffering from a VAGINAL YEAST INFECTION!" (caps mine) Okay, so maybe she doesn't scream--but I always jump, so it seems like she's screaming.
I remark, to no one in particular, "That's gross."
"Oh, please," responds my roommate in particular, while rolling his eyes.
I know he's rolling his eyes, even though my back is to him, because he's using that rolling-his-eyes tone of voice.
Anyway, rolling my eyes right back, almost to the very top of my head, I say to my roommate,
"Well, honestly! What if I had been eating?"
"What if you had?" he retorts. "These commercials are no worse than the ones for hemorrhoids.”
"Exactly," I wince, and the meal I finished almost an hour ago creeps up another few inches from my stomach.
"Hasn't your mother ever talked about it before?"
"With ME?" I respond/shriek. "My mom talk about a yeast infection with ME?" I couldn't have had a more incredulous look on my face if he'd just told me that HE had a vaginal yeast infection.
His rolling eyes tone is back. "It's perfectly natural."
But further discussion is hampered by the fact that I remain rooted to my chair, shivering, with a glazed look on my face while mumbling, "His mother tells him about her yeast infections, his mother tells him..."
My roommate shuffles into the kitchen to cook something really smelly, hoping to make me throw up.
A few days later, as luck would have it (and it always does), was my monthly obligatory call to mom. She starts telling me about her new boyfriend. "I like him all right," says mom. "Just not enough to sleep with him."
I chuckle good naturedly. Moms say the darndest things. "Well how do you get out of it?" I ask politely (how else would you ask such a question, but politely?).
Mom says, "Oh, I manage." Dramatic pause here. "Last time, I just told him I had a yeast infection."
She laughs. I scream. And tell her I have to go because lunch is coming up.
Later, the irony overwhelms me and I repeat the conversation to my roommate, bracing myself for a smug, “I told you so.”
But his mouth is agape. He looks shocked beyond measure. Finally, he sputters, "Oh, my GOD! I can't believe your mother talks to you about her sex life!!"
I can't wait to see the commercials for it.
There are inherent differences between myself and my roommate. He has two sisters, I have two brothers; he grew up in a small town in a large state, I grew up in a large city in a small state; his mother tells him about her yeast infections, mine does not.
We--that is, my roommate and I--were watching TV not too long ago when a commercial for Product Y suddenly appeared. I say "suddenly" because no matter how well prepared you are for a commercial, it always seems sudden when said commercial spits out the words "vaginal yeast infection."
I like to think I'm open minded. I like to think a have a strong stomach. But when one of these commercials comes on, I feel like a censorious little piggy on the verge of blowing chow. The problem (for me) is that they start off so INNOCENTLY. A pretty maiden strolls down a country lane after a spring shower. Or maybe it's a spring lane after a country shower. In any case, said maiden smiles beatifically while idly twirling a daisy between thumb and forefinger.
"I love days like this," she sighs, still smiling, while sniffing the daisy. Then--SUDDENLY--she screams, "Unless I happen to be suffering from a VAGINAL YEAST INFECTION!" (caps mine) Okay, so maybe she doesn't scream--but I always jump, so it seems like she's screaming.
I remark, to no one in particular, "That's gross."
"Oh, please," responds my roommate in particular, while rolling his eyes.
I know he's rolling his eyes, even though my back is to him, because he's using that rolling-his-eyes tone of voice.
Anyway, rolling my eyes right back, almost to the very top of my head, I say to my roommate,
"Well, honestly! What if I had been eating?"
"What if you had?" he retorts. "These commercials are no worse than the ones for hemorrhoids.”
"Exactly," I wince, and the meal I finished almost an hour ago creeps up another few inches from my stomach.
"Hasn't your mother ever talked about it before?"
"With ME?" I respond/shriek. "My mom talk about a yeast infection with ME?" I couldn't have had a more incredulous look on my face if he'd just told me that HE had a vaginal yeast infection.
His rolling eyes tone is back. "It's perfectly natural."
But further discussion is hampered by the fact that I remain rooted to my chair, shivering, with a glazed look on my face while mumbling, "His mother tells him about her yeast infections, his mother tells him..."
My roommate shuffles into the kitchen to cook something really smelly, hoping to make me throw up.
A few days later, as luck would have it (and it always does), was my monthly obligatory call to mom. She starts telling me about her new boyfriend. "I like him all right," says mom. "Just not enough to sleep with him."
I chuckle good naturedly. Moms say the darndest things. "Well how do you get out of it?" I ask politely (how else would you ask such a question, but politely?).
Mom says, "Oh, I manage." Dramatic pause here. "Last time, I just told him I had a yeast infection."
She laughs. I scream. And tell her I have to go because lunch is coming up.
Later, the irony overwhelms me and I repeat the conversation to my roommate, bracing myself for a smug, “I told you so.”
But his mouth is agape. He looks shocked beyond measure. Finally, he sputters, "Oh, my GOD! I can't believe your mother talks to you about her sex life!!"
I can't wait to see the commercials for it.
9/11/09
Medical Marijuana, Maher Mayhem, & More!
So as of the day I'm writing this, September 11th, I am "legal" to buy medical marijuana. I celebrated by finishing off the last of my "illegal" dope. But as I was leaning out the window, overlooking Hyde, and blowing smoke out, an older man across the street, middle-Eastern (irony alert!), stopped from walking up Hyde towards Sutter to look across the street where it seemed he looked right at my window/me.
So I just stood there, looking around, and of course assuming he's a terrorist because Rush says he fits the profile, and blah blah blah, before he slowly starts to walk off, but he keeps pausing to look across the street, and of course I could just be paranoid, but it did seem like he was looking at me/my window.
But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. :)
He turned east up Sutter, and went (skulked!) around the building on that corner, but I waited to see if he would pop back around to try and "catch" me or whomever he was gawking at. I decided, if he did that, I'd have to call the FBI on him.
But seriously, what's sad is, if I were someone like, say, Peter Krause in Civic Duty, I could probably make a big deal out of it. Which is just gross. Awful movie, BTW--and not just because of the stereotyping; I was actually embarrassed for Peter Krause. Anyway, as the movie does show very well, tho, this country is still very, very ill--despite Obama's optimistic speech.
Like with medical marijuana. I know for a fact that it helps me with my glaucoma--as well as the band that's still around my eye. And, also, lately, it has helped me from sliding into too deep of a depression worrying about Kyle.
But somehow, it's preferable to "medicate" those symptons with either chemicals in my eyes on a daily basis, and then Xanax or Paxil or Zoloft, blah blah blah--rather than something that grows naturally. I mean, I don't get it.
And, luckily, for all of its other problems, I'm fortunate enough to live in a state that allows for it. It's ludicrous that the Republicans can't get behind this coz then they can help control how it's taxed. And of course it'd bring in a buttload of money, and seriously curtail violence here and in Mexico over the trade. I mean, honestly, what century are we living in?
Why are we letting, why did we ever let, a slack-jawed, dimwitted, electorate outmanuever "us?" (i.e., the 70% of the country that's NOT crazy--although I think Bill Maher might be generous using that percentage figure; see link at end).
Yeah, Obama won, and maybe he'll get something done on health care, but where's the big symbolic gesture that could be made, that would cost nothing but a "stamp of approval" from him or an executive order? I'm not even suggesting it had to be in support of legalizing marijuana or gay marriage; I'm just saying that moments like this in history don't come around that often.
And the moment never proves to be more important than the follow-through. I mean, how could it? If he wanted to embrace the idea that he came in facing as great a challenge as FDR, then he should have been better prepared to move like FDR did when he took office--to immediately put the Republicans on the defensive reacting to policy change announcements, drafts of legislation, executive orders, bully puplit speaking, etc.
And I'm only angry because of how badly--how very badly--Bush responded/took all the universal goodwill felt toward the United States after 9/11 and not only squandered it, but beat it to a pulp and fed it to jackals and crows. Word.
Freaky coincidence. The day after I wrote the above, a friend forwarded me the following video--Maher said it almost as well as I did! :) Click here.
So I just stood there, looking around, and of course assuming he's a terrorist because Rush says he fits the profile, and blah blah blah, before he slowly starts to walk off, but he keeps pausing to look across the street, and of course I could just be paranoid, but it did seem like he was looking at me/my window.
But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. :)
He turned east up Sutter, and went (skulked!) around the building on that corner, but I waited to see if he would pop back around to try and "catch" me or whomever he was gawking at. I decided, if he did that, I'd have to call the FBI on him.
But seriously, what's sad is, if I were someone like, say, Peter Krause in Civic Duty, I could probably make a big deal out of it. Which is just gross. Awful movie, BTW--and not just because of the stereotyping; I was actually embarrassed for Peter Krause. Anyway, as the movie does show very well, tho, this country is still very, very ill--despite Obama's optimistic speech.
Like with medical marijuana. I know for a fact that it helps me with my glaucoma--as well as the band that's still around my eye. And, also, lately, it has helped me from sliding into too deep of a depression worrying about Kyle.
But somehow, it's preferable to "medicate" those symptons with either chemicals in my eyes on a daily basis, and then Xanax or Paxil or Zoloft, blah blah blah--rather than something that grows naturally. I mean, I don't get it.
And, luckily, for all of its other problems, I'm fortunate enough to live in a state that allows for it. It's ludicrous that the Republicans can't get behind this coz then they can help control how it's taxed. And of course it'd bring in a buttload of money, and seriously curtail violence here and in Mexico over the trade. I mean, honestly, what century are we living in?
Why are we letting, why did we ever let, a slack-jawed, dimwitted, electorate outmanuever "us?" (i.e., the 70% of the country that's NOT crazy--although I think Bill Maher might be generous using that percentage figure; see link at end).
Yeah, Obama won, and maybe he'll get something done on health care, but where's the big symbolic gesture that could be made, that would cost nothing but a "stamp of approval" from him or an executive order? I'm not even suggesting it had to be in support of legalizing marijuana or gay marriage; I'm just saying that moments like this in history don't come around that often.
And the moment never proves to be more important than the follow-through. I mean, how could it? If he wanted to embrace the idea that he came in facing as great a challenge as FDR, then he should have been better prepared to move like FDR did when he took office--to immediately put the Republicans on the defensive reacting to policy change announcements, drafts of legislation, executive orders, bully puplit speaking, etc.
And I'm only angry because of how badly--how very badly--Bush responded/took all the universal goodwill felt toward the United States after 9/11 and not only squandered it, but beat it to a pulp and fed it to jackals and crows. Word.
Freaky coincidence. The day after I wrote the above, a friend forwarded me the following video--Maher said it almost as well as I did! :) Click here.
9/10/09
The Return of Excalibur's Parking Spot
Freak show! Exactly one week later, almost the exact same space is open around 8:30 in the evening, on Hyde, right outside my dining room window.
First, this land cruiser kind of thing pulled paralell with it, and deja vu, he was almost exactly the same size as the space--possibly a bit bigger; but it turns out he was just dropping someone off. BUT, rather than being a Highlight's Magazine "Gallant," he was an evil "Goofus," who didn't realize the car sitting behind him wanted the space, and finally, falsely (unfortunately), assumed the land cruiser guy was going to try and cram his thing in there (huh huh huh), so takes off.
And then, right then, the guy drives off. By this point the woman he dropped off could be 4 blocks away. Loser. It's just amazing to me how clueless people are "these days" about anything outside of their own little bubble/world. But it does make life easier for judgmental people like me! So, um, thanks?
So anyway, almost immediately, a smaller, almost perfect-sized-for-the-spot car shows up. And, surprise, surprise, just like last week, ANY decent parallel parking skills are in complete absence--and again it's a stick shift that's involved.
What's different is, this driver mucks it up by being overly cautious. There's no bashing back and forth like last week--it's more wildly ill-timed wheel-cutting that was obviously brought on, at least in part, by an apparent concern for the other cars! I figure, with the crappy driving, and this unheard of concern for something that doesn't belong to you, it's got to be an alien that's "driving" the car.
But, instead, it was a woman. So now we've observed the difference in how men and women try to "finesse" their way in to a parking space. The winner? Me for having this free entertainment slash sociological experiment right outside my windows! :)
And for those of you who didn't get the "Goofus & Gallant" reference (which would mean you never went to the dentist as a child), and for those who just miss the rascals, here's a couple of classics:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/theblog/archive/GoofusGallant_Oct1980.jpg
First, this land cruiser kind of thing pulled paralell with it, and deja vu, he was almost exactly the same size as the space--possibly a bit bigger; but it turns out he was just dropping someone off. BUT, rather than being a Highlight's Magazine "Gallant," he was an evil "Goofus," who didn't realize the car sitting behind him wanted the space, and finally, falsely (unfortunately), assumed the land cruiser guy was going to try and cram his thing in there (huh huh huh), so takes off.
And then, right then, the guy drives off. By this point the woman he dropped off could be 4 blocks away. Loser. It's just amazing to me how clueless people are "these days" about anything outside of their own little bubble/world. But it does make life easier for judgmental people like me! So, um, thanks?
So anyway, almost immediately, a smaller, almost perfect-sized-for-the-spot car shows up. And, surprise, surprise, just like last week, ANY decent parallel parking skills are in complete absence--and again it's a stick shift that's involved.
What's different is, this driver mucks it up by being overly cautious. There's no bashing back and forth like last week--it's more wildly ill-timed wheel-cutting that was obviously brought on, at least in part, by an apparent concern for the other cars! I figure, with the crappy driving, and this unheard of concern for something that doesn't belong to you, it's got to be an alien that's "driving" the car.
But, instead, it was a woman. So now we've observed the difference in how men and women try to "finesse" their way in to a parking space. The winner? Me for having this free entertainment slash sociological experiment right outside my windows! :)
And for those of you who didn't get the "Goofus & Gallant" reference (which would mean you never went to the dentist as a child), and for those who just miss the rascals, here's a couple of classics:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/theblog/archive/GoofusGallant_Oct1980.jpg
9/9/09
Obama's Health Care Speech
I wanna know what he just said to Hillary, coming in, coz she busted out laughing. Did anyone hear?
You know, seeing Biden up there, I actually like him more now than in the past when he was a boring old Senator. His supposed “gaffe problem” at least means he’s more genuine than most of the liars in office these days.
Can’t decide if I like that brooch thing at Michelle’s neck or not, but I know I don’t like Obama’s striped tie.
I have to say, it is still weird/cool to see him up there as President of the United States, to see the sycophantic ovations over his very basic opening remarks, etc.
Okay, I do like the line, “I’m not the first president to take up this cause, but I am determined to be the last.” Good luck with that, Barack!
Cool fact about John Dingell (D-MI) and his dad (google them if you missed it; although you;ll also disover an unpleasant fact about the dad if/when you do).
Oh, crap - getting insurance on your own costs 3X what employers pay for your coverage?? I have to get my own coverage for my new job; gotta change that! J
The stories are appalling! And people have the gall to trash the British, Canadian, French, etc. systems as something to fear? Gawd!
Haha--Pelosi smiled when Obama said “no one disputes these facts.”
Gotta admit, he just made a compelling argument for “a middle way.” Dammit!
Nice little bit of scolding on the bickering. Boehner looks unhappy over that; of course, he still looks orange, too - I wonder what health issue HE has? Oh yeah, George Hamiltonism!
Ah, the pre-existing condition thing; THAT is a biggy. Oooh, dropping you when you’re sick; that’s another one. It’s ludicrous we have to even fight for things like this.
Nice graphic showing the link to the details of what he wants: http://www.whitehouse.gov/issues/health_care/plan/
Snap! Give Americans the same oppt’y Congress gives itself!
Awww, he threw a bone to McCain. Cute.
Oooh, called out that….that….oooh, I’m trying to keep this PG….that Palin woman on her stupid “death panels” thing.
Key point: it’s outrageous beyond belief that health care should be a profit-driven enterprise. Disgusting!
Good comparison re: the public option with public vs. private colleges.
Oooh, called out the Repubs to quit making up shit and to work together to address “legitimate” concerns.
Choice. Keep working that word, Mister Man! :)
Snap again on “making sure no insurance company bureaucrat or government bureaucrat gets between you and the health care you need.”
Wow, some loser congressman sitting next to Boehner is texting! Showed him again and he‘s still doing it! Gawd!
Talk about a miracle - for the first time probably ever Feinstein is one of the few women in the audience not wearing a red “power” outfit.
Interesting that the repubs in the house can’t even bring themselves to applaud protecting Medicare. They make me sick. But then so do the Democrats, in general. Ha.
You know, I do have to say that even tho it’s a “conservative” issue, I’m down with reforming our medical malpractice “problem.” Gasp! He said something the Bush administration proposed on this issue that he thinks is a good idea!
EXCELLENT point about those who feel “it’s better to kill this plan than improve it.”
“We will call you out.” He’s so hip! :)
Biden and Pelosi are tearing up over Teddy. I am too, a bit.
Ha! CNN doesn’t know who Chuck Grassley is!
Excellent finish. He needs to do this, be like this, more often. I’m back on board!
Hmm, dare I listen to CNN’s “analysis”??? I think not.
Wait, wow, I didn’t hear the inappropriate Congressman saying, “You lie” Jeez, how do these freaks get into office? Way to harsh my buzz, CNN.
Click.
You know, seeing Biden up there, I actually like him more now than in the past when he was a boring old Senator. His supposed “gaffe problem” at least means he’s more genuine than most of the liars in office these days.
Can’t decide if I like that brooch thing at Michelle’s neck or not, but I know I don’t like Obama’s striped tie.
I have to say, it is still weird/cool to see him up there as President of the United States, to see the sycophantic ovations over his very basic opening remarks, etc.
Okay, I do like the line, “I’m not the first president to take up this cause, but I am determined to be the last.” Good luck with that, Barack!
Cool fact about John Dingell (D-MI) and his dad (google them if you missed it; although you;ll also disover an unpleasant fact about the dad if/when you do).
Oh, crap - getting insurance on your own costs 3X what employers pay for your coverage?? I have to get my own coverage for my new job; gotta change that! J
The stories are appalling! And people have the gall to trash the British, Canadian, French, etc. systems as something to fear? Gawd!
Haha--Pelosi smiled when Obama said “no one disputes these facts.”
Gotta admit, he just made a compelling argument for “a middle way.” Dammit!
Nice little bit of scolding on the bickering. Boehner looks unhappy over that; of course, he still looks orange, too - I wonder what health issue HE has? Oh yeah, George Hamiltonism!
Ah, the pre-existing condition thing; THAT is a biggy. Oooh, dropping you when you’re sick; that’s another one. It’s ludicrous we have to even fight for things like this.
Nice graphic showing the link to the details of what he wants: http://www.whitehouse.gov/issues/health_care/plan/
Snap! Give Americans the same oppt’y Congress gives itself!
Awww, he threw a bone to McCain. Cute.
Oooh, called out that….that….oooh, I’m trying to keep this PG….that Palin woman on her stupid “death panels” thing.
Key point: it’s outrageous beyond belief that health care should be a profit-driven enterprise. Disgusting!
Good comparison re: the public option with public vs. private colleges.
Oooh, called out the Repubs to quit making up shit and to work together to address “legitimate” concerns.
Choice. Keep working that word, Mister Man! :)
Snap again on “making sure no insurance company bureaucrat or government bureaucrat gets between you and the health care you need.”
Wow, some loser congressman sitting next to Boehner is texting! Showed him again and he‘s still doing it! Gawd!
Talk about a miracle - for the first time probably ever Feinstein is one of the few women in the audience not wearing a red “power” outfit.
Interesting that the repubs in the house can’t even bring themselves to applaud protecting Medicare. They make me sick. But then so do the Democrats, in general. Ha.
You know, I do have to say that even tho it’s a “conservative” issue, I’m down with reforming our medical malpractice “problem.” Gasp! He said something the Bush administration proposed on this issue that he thinks is a good idea!
EXCELLENT point about those who feel “it’s better to kill this plan than improve it.”
“We will call you out.” He’s so hip! :)
Biden and Pelosi are tearing up over Teddy. I am too, a bit.
Ha! CNN doesn’t know who Chuck Grassley is!
Excellent finish. He needs to do this, be like this, more often. I’m back on board!
Hmm, dare I listen to CNN’s “analysis”??? I think not.
Wait, wow, I didn’t hear the inappropriate Congressman saying, “You lie” Jeez, how do these freaks get into office? Way to harsh my buzz, CNN.
Click.
9/8/09
Anality
This is another piece I wrote some years ago, when I came to "embrace" my "anality." :)
For some reason, many people seem to think that being anal-retentive is a BAD thing. No, seriously! I just recently discovered this. I have been a proud, card-carrying anal retentive for, well, for as long as I can remember (please put that tape dispenser back on the left-hand corner of my desk and at an angle, thank you).
Imagine my surprise, then, when I heard two girls talking on the bus the other day and one of them said: “Oh, WAY. But he is, like, SO anal!” Then she actually shivered! Like it was a bad thing!
While I am perfectly aware that there are people who don’t have the talent for organization and orderliness that I do, I never assumed they would be so petty, so consumed with jealousy that they would actually try to make it seem like being methodical and systematic would be anything other than something to be proud of. PROUD, I tells ya!
Although I wasn’t aware of the term for it at the time, I was being derided for my comprehensive approach to everything early in life. When I was about 12, I recall making sandwiches with my cousin. We were both having salami & cheese with mustard. Well, my cousin spread his mustard on his bread before passing said mustard to me (if you want to call it “spreading,” he actually kind of just globbed some in the middle of his bread), and I, very smoothly and evenly, covered my own bread with a nice, level layer of mustard. As I reached for the salami, my cousin looked at me, grinning ear to ear, and said, “You missed a spot.” He was pointing at my newly-mustarded bread which I didn’t even have to look down at to know that I had NOT missed a spot; thus, very confused, I replied, “Um, no I didn’t.”
He then proceeded to laugh uproariously, while I debated whether or not he was insane. Looking back, I now realize that he was actually trying to make fun of me for ensuring that I would get mustard in every bite of my sandwich! Um, excuse me, but WHY put mustard on your sandwich if you’re only going to run into it occasionally during the course of eating it? (Yes, Sharon, there is a reason I’m having the class sit boy/girl, boy/girl. Because it just MAKES SENSE.)
Nowadays, though, our society has become so SLOPPY and DISORDERLY and, yes, LAZY, that they have to make fun of us organized folk to cover for the pell-mell, helter-skelter, lack of control they have over their own chaotic lives.
Of course, some people don’t understand the difference between managed, correct harmony and simple obsessiveness. My old roommate Sean, for instance. He used to think that HE was the one who knew all the correct “life’s rules.” HA! Like it really MATTERS that the back of the couch be aligned along one of the floorboards instead of simply straddling it. Is that not a STUPID thing to worry about? And this from a guy who could not get it into his head that when you’re done showering you pull the shower curtain closed! I mean, why would you leave it bunched up, exposing the bathtub? Not only does it incite mildew growth, it just LOOKS WRONG.
Finally, he would also actually group a soundtrack under the artist’s name even if he/she only sang 50% of the songs on the soundtrack, when most any NORMAL person would agree that the soundtrack is only alphabetized under the artist’s name if he/she sings at least 75% of the songs!
So then you can imagine, what with my fondness for ship-shape symmetry and orderly goodness, how fascinated and, yes, thrilled, I was to come across something so wonderful in a co-worker’s office as a color-coded filing system (for, you see, not only am I proudly anal-retentive, I REALLY like it when there’s some color involved--providing, of course, that the scheme “makes sense.”).
ME (your anal super hero): “Ooooooh,” I cooed admirably. “Love that color-coded filing system, Heather!”
CO-WORKER (Heather): “Oh, that?” she laughs. “That was Rob’s anality, not mine.” (Rob being Heather’s predecessor at work)
I had to scoff and shake my head at this charming little vixen (and you should see Heather, she is indeed a charming little vixen) for making up such a word. For, if anyone would know if anality were truly a word, it would be I.
So, in my best scoffing/”aren’t you cute?” voice, I said, “Oh, Heather, you silly, there’s no such word as ‘anality.’” And of course, with this, I rolled my eyes and patted her paternally on the shoulder.
But she smiled brightly at me, laughed herself in an almost patronizing way (humph!), and said, “Anality isn’t a word? I’m pretty sure it is.”
I gawked, open-mouthed, at her impudence. “Are you trying to tell ME whether or not a word relating to anal retentiveness exists?” My eyes bulged incredulously as--gallingly--she laughed again.
“Let’s just look in the dictionary,” she trilled and headed off for the Webster’s. Imagine my horror/surprise when she found this:
anality: the psychological state or quality of being anal
“See?” She smiled and shrugged, put the dictionary back, and then walked away as if it didn’t matter!
For some reason, many people seem to think that being anal-retentive is a BAD thing. No, seriously! I just recently discovered this. I have been a proud, card-carrying anal retentive for, well, for as long as I can remember (please put that tape dispenser back on the left-hand corner of my desk and at an angle, thank you).
Imagine my surprise, then, when I heard two girls talking on the bus the other day and one of them said: “Oh, WAY. But he is, like, SO anal!” Then she actually shivered! Like it was a bad thing!
While I am perfectly aware that there are people who don’t have the talent for organization and orderliness that I do, I never assumed they would be so petty, so consumed with jealousy that they would actually try to make it seem like being methodical and systematic would be anything other than something to be proud of. PROUD, I tells ya!
Although I wasn’t aware of the term for it at the time, I was being derided for my comprehensive approach to everything early in life. When I was about 12, I recall making sandwiches with my cousin. We were both having salami & cheese with mustard. Well, my cousin spread his mustard on his bread before passing said mustard to me (if you want to call it “spreading,” he actually kind of just globbed some in the middle of his bread), and I, very smoothly and evenly, covered my own bread with a nice, level layer of mustard. As I reached for the salami, my cousin looked at me, grinning ear to ear, and said, “You missed a spot.” He was pointing at my newly-mustarded bread which I didn’t even have to look down at to know that I had NOT missed a spot; thus, very confused, I replied, “Um, no I didn’t.”
He then proceeded to laugh uproariously, while I debated whether or not he was insane. Looking back, I now realize that he was actually trying to make fun of me for ensuring that I would get mustard in every bite of my sandwich! Um, excuse me, but WHY put mustard on your sandwich if you’re only going to run into it occasionally during the course of eating it? (Yes, Sharon, there is a reason I’m having the class sit boy/girl, boy/girl. Because it just MAKES SENSE.)
Nowadays, though, our society has become so SLOPPY and DISORDERLY and, yes, LAZY, that they have to make fun of us organized folk to cover for the pell-mell, helter-skelter, lack of control they have over their own chaotic lives.
Of course, some people don’t understand the difference between managed, correct harmony and simple obsessiveness. My old roommate Sean, for instance. He used to think that HE was the one who knew all the correct “life’s rules.” HA! Like it really MATTERS that the back of the couch be aligned along one of the floorboards instead of simply straddling it. Is that not a STUPID thing to worry about? And this from a guy who could not get it into his head that when you’re done showering you pull the shower curtain closed! I mean, why would you leave it bunched up, exposing the bathtub? Not only does it incite mildew growth, it just LOOKS WRONG.
Finally, he would also actually group a soundtrack under the artist’s name even if he/she only sang 50% of the songs on the soundtrack, when most any NORMAL person would agree that the soundtrack is only alphabetized under the artist’s name if he/she sings at least 75% of the songs!
So then you can imagine, what with my fondness for ship-shape symmetry and orderly goodness, how fascinated and, yes, thrilled, I was to come across something so wonderful in a co-worker’s office as a color-coded filing system (for, you see, not only am I proudly anal-retentive, I REALLY like it when there’s some color involved--providing, of course, that the scheme “makes sense.”).
ME (your anal super hero): “Ooooooh,” I cooed admirably. “Love that color-coded filing system, Heather!”
CO-WORKER (Heather): “Oh, that?” she laughs. “That was Rob’s anality, not mine.” (Rob being Heather’s predecessor at work)
I had to scoff and shake my head at this charming little vixen (and you should see Heather, she is indeed a charming little vixen) for making up such a word. For, if anyone would know if anality were truly a word, it would be I.
So, in my best scoffing/”aren’t you cute?” voice, I said, “Oh, Heather, you silly, there’s no such word as ‘anality.’” And of course, with this, I rolled my eyes and patted her paternally on the shoulder.
But she smiled brightly at me, laughed herself in an almost patronizing way (humph!), and said, “Anality isn’t a word? I’m pretty sure it is.”
I gawked, open-mouthed, at her impudence. “Are you trying to tell ME whether or not a word relating to anal retentiveness exists?” My eyes bulged incredulously as--gallingly--she laughed again.
“Let’s just look in the dictionary,” she trilled and headed off for the Webster’s. Imagine my horror/surprise when she found this:
anality: the psychological state or quality of being anal
“See?” She smiled and shrugged, put the dictionary back, and then walked away as if it didn’t matter!
9/6/09
Deep thoughts, cheap shots, and bon mots - the first
Okay, WTF is up with the way they package things like, say, thumb drives. Not only is it in an outrageous amount of plastic for its size, but it's really thick plastic - AND it's hermetically sealed AND crimped EXTRA tight around the edges!
You have to use scissors, really, to open these packages, and of course that ruins the scissors. But I’m guessing it aids in the prevention of shoplifting--which is, of course, a significantly more important issue than our impending environmental catastrophe (insert obligatory reference to the 12/2012 Mayan calendar thingy)
Speaking of catastrophes, check it out from Harper's Index:
Percentage change since 2002 in average premiums paid to large U.S. health insurance companies: +87; Percentage change in the profits of the top ten insurance companies: +428; Chances that an American bankrupted by medical bills has/had health insurance: 7 in 10
Let me give a shout out to Harper's Magazine, too. Best. Magazine. Ever.
Speaking of health care, I just saw "As Good As It Gets" again the other day and forgot about the strong health care access component to it. Interesting.
In another movie I saw, a woman made a very compelling argument about how after we had our post-WWII and Cold War "education push" to keep up with the Russkis, everyone got smart, questioned things, and the 60s happened. The guv'mint learned its lesson and has slashed education ever since. A few days after seeing that movie (which is about 5 years old), I read a strikingly similar theory/essay in Harper's magazine. Plausible or not? Discuss.
I've decided I would have no problem whatsoever living in a "Christian nation" if all these hypocrites actually did honestly base policies on "What Would Jesus Do?" I mean, any doubt on which side Jesus would be on re: health care? Or gay marriage for that matter? Or treating corporations as people?
It was disgusting beyond belief to see the outrage among the "Christians" when Obama “played the God card” for not helping the least among us--they actually got all huffy and many southern churches started advocating against health care just coz they were so outraged. Seriously, are these people truly that selfish and deranged?
I read this great letter to the editor in the Chronicle the other day wherein someone pointed out that conservatives always attack progress by flipping the script. "Extending civil rights to blacks means our rights are under attack." "Granting marriage rights to gays is an attack on marriage." "Extending medical coverage to all is an attack on health care."
As this letter writer mentioned: "There seems to be a steady pattern in which conservatives can't seem to enjoy a legal, social, or economic benefit without the added thrill of knowing that it's being denied to someone else." Word.
You have to use scissors, really, to open these packages, and of course that ruins the scissors. But I’m guessing it aids in the prevention of shoplifting--which is, of course, a significantly more important issue than our impending environmental catastrophe (insert obligatory reference to the 12/2012 Mayan calendar thingy)
Speaking of catastrophes, check it out from Harper's Index:
Percentage change since 2002 in average premiums paid to large U.S. health insurance companies: +87; Percentage change in the profits of the top ten insurance companies: +428; Chances that an American bankrupted by medical bills has/had health insurance: 7 in 10
Let me give a shout out to Harper's Magazine, too. Best. Magazine. Ever.
Speaking of health care, I just saw "As Good As It Gets" again the other day and forgot about the strong health care access component to it. Interesting.
In another movie I saw, a woman made a very compelling argument about how after we had our post-WWII and Cold War "education push" to keep up with the Russkis, everyone got smart, questioned things, and the 60s happened. The guv'mint learned its lesson and has slashed education ever since. A few days after seeing that movie (which is about 5 years old), I read a strikingly similar theory/essay in Harper's magazine. Plausible or not? Discuss.
I've decided I would have no problem whatsoever living in a "Christian nation" if all these hypocrites actually did honestly base policies on "What Would Jesus Do?" I mean, any doubt on which side Jesus would be on re: health care? Or gay marriage for that matter? Or treating corporations as people?
It was disgusting beyond belief to see the outrage among the "Christians" when Obama “played the God card” for not helping the least among us--they actually got all huffy and many southern churches started advocating against health care just coz they were so outraged. Seriously, are these people truly that selfish and deranged?
I read this great letter to the editor in the Chronicle the other day wherein someone pointed out that conservatives always attack progress by flipping the script. "Extending civil rights to blacks means our rights are under attack." "Granting marriage rights to gays is an attack on marriage." "Extending medical coverage to all is an attack on health care."
As this letter writer mentioned: "There seems to be a steady pattern in which conservatives can't seem to enjoy a legal, social, or economic benefit without the added thrill of knowing that it's being denied to someone else." Word.
9/3/09
Excalibur's Parking Spot
So tonight there's this small parking spot on Hyde, right out the dining room window where I sit with my laptop. I happened to glance out and saw a van trying to get in it and I scoffed just before they gave up and took off.
It stayed empty for awhile until a jeepish kind of car/thing tried very hard to get in it. Of course, from my vantage point, I could tell they were just this much too big--and I don't mean much. And, in the end, if they had spent another 20-30 minutes, they might have gotten in there, but by gawd they gave it the old college try. I've never seen a Jeep crab like that!
But the sad thing is, if they had finally made it in there, the pickup truck in front of them would have never been able to get out if they tried to leave first--as they were bumper to bumper with the car in front of them. But do you think those guys would have cared if they'd been able to get in? I'm guessing not.
Anyway, after a while, the two jeep boys gave up (and it took them awhile to get back out!), and another car, smaller finally, made the effort. It was a fairly tight fit, but anyone with any decent parallel parking skills (c'est moi!) woudn't have a problem.
This dude had a problem.
A serious problem.
His buddy got out to "help" direct him, but all he basically ended up doing was comically clapping his hands to his head and shrieking when his buddy backed--repeatedly--into the van parked behind. Then, at the end, and for good measure I suppose, he rammed the bumper of the pick up in front of him. Moral of the story: Drive a MINI.
It stayed empty for awhile until a jeepish kind of car/thing tried very hard to get in it. Of course, from my vantage point, I could tell they were just this much too big--and I don't mean much. And, in the end, if they had spent another 20-30 minutes, they might have gotten in there, but by gawd they gave it the old college try. I've never seen a Jeep crab like that!
But the sad thing is, if they had finally made it in there, the pickup truck in front of them would have never been able to get out if they tried to leave first--as they were bumper to bumper with the car in front of them. But do you think those guys would have cared if they'd been able to get in? I'm guessing not.
Anyway, after a while, the two jeep boys gave up (and it took them awhile to get back out!), and another car, smaller finally, made the effort. It was a fairly tight fit, but anyone with any decent parallel parking skills (c'est moi!) woudn't have a problem.
This dude had a problem.
A serious problem.
His buddy got out to "help" direct him, but all he basically ended up doing was comically clapping his hands to his head and shrieking when his buddy backed--repeatedly--into the van parked behind. Then, at the end, and for good measure I suppose, he rammed the bumper of the pick up in front of him. Moral of the story: Drive a MINI.
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