Standard

Actually, watching Can’t Stop the Music wasn’t as painful as I feared–it’s too ridiculously stupid to induce anything as honest as pain. I put it in that strange category of film that includes Showgirls and Shock Treatment: movies that are cognizant of their camp value but which ultimately aren’t campy. The directors are trying make the films do too much at once, leaving the viewer (i.e. me) irritated, not entertained.

I had a much different experience Friday evening while watching a TV documentary on the Beatles. The black-and-white footage was fine, non-descript, archival. But things crossed over into technicolor around the same time I was born. The clothes the band was wearing, even the quality of the film, pointed to a time I can just barely remember, before I’d even started elementary school. I get the same feeling when I visit my mom and flip through her stacks of Fox Photo pics. I can’t really remember specific events, but I remember the general feeling of being alive then: the color of our living room carpet, a few of my favorite shirts, the face of our babysitter (whom I secretly loved) and the feel of riding to Macdonald’s in her convertible. It’s an indefinable sensation; it’s like having a vague idea of something that happened, but never remembering specifics–always being right on the edge of recollection. If I could pin it down to a particular image or event, that would probably be fine–at least it’d be closure. But this kind of nebulousness makes me nauseous, like I’ve been punched in the gut.

Standard

Thought for Today

Many things scare me–notably Beanie Babies, scrambled eggs, and my inexplicable fascination with Lawrence Welk. But nothing–I mean nothing–scares me quite as much as middle America’s anti-intellectual streak.

Case in point: when Southern Baptists et al. decide that the bible isn’t open to any sort of interpretation whatsoever, that’s pretty friggin’ creepy–not to mention blatantly ignorant of the fact that the bible’s been translated squillions of times from one language to another. I mean, that’s an indisputable fact, right? So which one deserves the literal interpretation?

When I ask my mom questions like that, and she gets flabbergasted, doesn’t know what to say. Blind faith, that’s her motto. On the other hand, my father–whom I’d written off for so long as an alien from another planet–is pretty laid-back and relativistic about it.

I used to think the reluctance to exert–even distrust of–mental muscle was just part-and-parcel of conservatism. But you know what? It’s not. Hasidic Jews, for example, are pretty damn conservative, but they also have a long history of intellectual engagement with the Torah….

Of course, that’s not to say that I’m an intellectual myself; personally, I think I’m a little too ADD to wear that particular hat…. But I worry when the opinions, or even questions, of bona fide thinkin’ folks are attacked.

This “Thought for Today” has been brought to you by the letter “S” (for stupid) and “D” (for dumbass) and the leadership of the Republican Party.

Standard

Good News: Amazon finally shipped out my order for The Secret History–not that Donna Tartt bit of pop-novel trash, but some real smut: Procopius’ scandalous, Jacqueline Susann-esque recounting of the reign of Justinian I and his courtesan-turned-queen Theodora.

Bad News: There appear to be no plans to release Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains on video or DVD anytime soon.

Good News: The world is full of stupid people who have been put here for our amusement.

Bad News: It will take a very, very long time for all of them to die out.

Good News: Porn Addiction is at Epidemic Proportions!

Bad News: Nobody told me about Pornography Awareness Week. I miss out on all the fun stuff…

Good News (or possibly Bad): Yes, I’ve finally broken down and become a cellphonophile

Bad News (definitely Bad): I mistakenly puchased a single-band phone–which isn’t so bad when I’m tooling around New Orleans, but on those inevitable trips back to Mississippi for the holidays… I mean, I could be squealing like a pig and no one could hear me send.

Standard

Oy, does that bring back memories. Thanks, John, for reminding me what it’s like to stumble through a club at 4am feeling like the world’s largest boneless chicken…

Standard

Wow. It looks like quite a few folks are getting ready to ditch their weblogs–mostly because they say they don’t have the time or energy to maintain them…. That’s kinda sad.

Okay, yes, there is an unwritten mandate that “true” webloggers have to post something at least every couple of days…but, um, what’s gonna happen if you don’t? So you’re busy, so you go a couple of weeks without posting. That’s life. I mean, Jason and Meg and Halcyon aren’t going to come screeching to your house, batter down your door, confiscate your Playstation and your 17 cats, and cart you off to Blogger Penitentiary (although, that’s kind of a funny image). We’re quasi-intelligent folks here, and we know you have a life. We can wait. In fact, I’d guess that most of us would rather hold out a couple of weeks for you to share something insightful or funny or just plain honest than slog through pages and pages of insipid, sentence-long posts pointing to other people’s content.

Bottom line: I’m bummed that these voices I’ve grown fond of hearing, these people I’ve never met but whom I’ve grown to adore, are gonna be signing off. I’m sure they’ll probably still keep their sites up and running, but I dunno…. What can I say? I like the personal stuff.

Can I offer just a bit of unsolicited advice? Remove the time/date stamp from your weblog. Spend less time reading angsty teen sites maintained by kids with nothing better to do than sit around and post all day. Kick back and have a drink. And when you feel the need to share something, all the better.

Standard

Oh, happy day! I’d almost forgotten: US presidents elected in “0” years (e.g. 1940, 1960, 2000) never serve their full term! In some cases–like Reagan–that just means they go into surgery for a couple of hours and temporarily give the VP the keys to the White House. In other cases…well, we all know about Rose Kennedy’s all-black wardrobe, don’t we? …Not that I’d wish any ill will on anyone, mind you, but despite his Regan-era ethics, I think I’d probably feel more comfortable with Cheney in the Ovum Office than little Georgie-Porgie.

Oh, and in case any of you were wondering, the video shoot for The Scooby Witch Project went really well this weekend–largely thanks to Jason’s impeccable portrayal of Velma/Heather. The snot speech? Spectacular… Frankly, I think the video segments will be the highlight of the show. Hope a couple of you can make it…