De gustibus non est disputandem.

Ian Hamet points me to Terry Teachout's Teachout Cultural Concurrence Index (TCCI). I respond not because I necessarily agree or disagree with Teachout most of the time, but because of my Pavlovian need to respond to lists of things from which to pick.

1. Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly?
2. The Great Gatsby or The Sun Also Rises?
3. Count Basie or Duke Ellington?
4. Cats or dogs?
5. Matisse or Picasso?
6. Yeats or Eliot?
7. Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin?
8. Flannery O’Connor or John Updike?
9. To Have and Have Not or Casablanca?
10. Jackson Pollock or Willem de Kooning?
11. The Who or the Stones?
12. Philip Larkin or Sylvia Plath?
13. Trollope or Dickens?
14. Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald?
15. Dostoyevsky or Tolstoy?
16. The Moviegoer or The End of the Affair?
17. George Balanchine or Martha Graham?
18. Hot dogs or hamburgers?
19. Letterman or Leno?
20. Wilco or Cat Power?
21. Verdi or Wagner?
22. Grace Kelly or Marilyn Monroe?
23. Bill Monroe or Johnny Cash?
24. Kingsley or Martin Amis?
25. Robert Mitchum or Marlon Brando?
26. Mark Morris or Twyla Tharp?
27. Vermeer or Rembrandt?
28. Tchaikovsky or Chopin?
29. Red wine or white?
30. Noël Coward or Oscar Wilde?
31. Grosse Pointe Blank or High Fidelity?
32. Shostakovich or Prokofiev?
33. Mikhail Baryshnikov or Rudolf Nureyev?
34. Constable or Turner?
35. The Searchers or Rio Bravo?
36. Comedy or tragedy?
37. Fall or spring?
38. Manet or Monet?
39. The Sopranos or The Simpsons?
40. Rodgers and Hart or Gershwin and Gershwin?
41. Joseph Conrad or Henry James?
42. Sunset or sunrise?
43. Johnny Mercer or Cole Porter?
44. Mac or PC?
45. New York or Los Angeles?
46. Partisan Review or Horizon?
47. Stax or Motown?
48. Van Gogh or Gauguin?
49. Steely Dan or Elvis Costello?
50. Reading a blog or reading a magazine?
51. John Gielgud or Laurence Olivier?
52. Only the Lonely or Songs for Swingin’ Lovers?
53. Chinatown or Bonnie and Clyde?
54. Ghost World or Election?
55. Minimalism or conceptual art?
56. Daffy Duck or Bugs Bunny?
57. Modernism or postmodernism?
58. Batman or Spider-Man?
59. Emmylou Harris or Lucinda Williams?
60. Johnson or Boswell?
61. Jane Austen or Virginia Woolf?
62. The Honeymooners or The Dick Van Dyke Show?
63. An Eames chair or a Noguchi table?
64. Out of the Past or Double Indemnity?
65. The Marriage of Figaro or Don Giovanni?
66. Blue or green?
67. A Midsummer Night’s Dream or As You Like It?
68. Ballet or opera?
69. Film or live theater?
70. Acoustic or electric?
71. North by Northwest or Vertigo?
72. Sargent or Whistler?
73. V.S. Naipaul or Milan Kundera?
74. The Music Man or Oklahoma?
75. Sushi, yes or no?
76. The New Yorker under Ross or Shawn?
77. Tennessee Williams or Edward Albee?
78. The Portrait of a Lady or The Wings of the Dove?
79. Paul Taylor or Merce Cunningham?
80. Frank Lloyd Wright or Mies van der Rohe?
81. Diana Krall or Norah Jones?
82. Watercolor or pastel?
83. Bus or subway?
84. Stravinsky or Schoenberg?
85. Crunchy or smooth peanut butter?
86. Willa Cather or Theodore Dreiser?
87. Schubert or Mozart?
88. The Fifties or the Twenties?
89. Huckleberry Finn or Moby-Dick?
90. Thomas Mann or James Joyce?
91. Lester Young or Coleman Hawkins?
92. Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman?
93. Abraham Lincoln or Winston Churchill?
94. Liz Phair or Aimee Mann?
95. Italian or French cooking?
96. Bach on piano or harpsichord?
97. Anchovies, yes or no?
98. Short novels or long ones?
99. Swing or bebop?
100. "The Last Judgment" or "The Last Supper"?

Total of 91 responses, with 57 in concurrence with Teachout, giving me a TCCI of 62.6.

Comments:
I really can't imagine choosing the Who over the Stones. The Mercer vs. Porter choice was much harder, as was Steely Dan vs. Elvis Costello. Batman vs. Spiderman is only valid if we're talking about campy 60s Batman; otherwise count that as a non-response. Oh, and I loathe--LOATHE--"Chinatown" with a passion scarcely to be borne within woman's breast.

Maraschino ice cream.

Stir 1 cup of sugar into 2 cups of heavy cream and bring nearly to a boil, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Cool and add 2 more cups of heavy cream, the juice of 1 orange, and one of the following:

1/4 tsp. almond extract, or
1/2 tsp. wild cherry extract, or
2 drops angostura bitters

Drain the liquid from a 16 oz. jar of maraschino cherries (without stems) and add the liquid to the cream mixture. Chop the cherries roughly (about 3 seconds in the food processor) and add to the cream. Chill until quite cold, at least 2 hours or overnight, and freeze according to the directions peculiar to your ice cream maker.

Vote early, vote often.

And please vote for "Ice Station Zebra".

Brando.

Nothing profound to say about him, except that, years ago, he made me really understand the "Friends, Romans, countrymen" speech in Julius Caesar for the first time. Thanks for that.

I think most of the tributes are going to be left-handed, to put it politely. To hell with that. Here's to the talented fat man.

Reader survey.

Saw this on Sheila's site a couple of days ago and just now got around to lifting it:

1) What is your favorite type of bookstore?
A. A large chain that is well lit, stuffed full of books, and has a café.
B. A dark, rather dusty, used bookstore full of mysterious and vaguely organized books.
C. A local independent bookstore that has books by local authors and coffee.

B. If I'm looking for a specific book I usually don't bother going to a bookstore, I order it online. If I'm browsing, I'd rather browse in a place that might have out of print stuff.

2) What would excite you more?
A. A brand new book by your favorite author.
B. Finding a classic you've been wanting to read.
C. Receiving a free book from a friend in the mail.

B. Most of my favorite authors are dead.

3) What's your favorite format?
A. Novel
B. Short story
C. Poetry

I waver between A and B; my reading stamina is not what it used to be, and a good short story is like a good stiff drink. Then again, sometimes I do like to immerse myself in another world, the deeper the better. Poetry brings up a distant third.

4) Favorite format, part II.
A. Contemporary fiction.
B. Classic novels.
C. Genre (mystery, espionage, etc.)

B, with C close behind.

5) Favorite format, part III (none of the above) Fiction or non?
A. Almost entirely fiction.
B. Almost entirely non-fiction.
C. A mix of both.

C.

6) Does the design and condition of the book matter?
A. Yes, I love a well designed book and keep mine in mint condition.
B. No, the words are what matter.
C. Yes and no, I appreciate good design and treat my books with respect but I am not obsessive about it.

C.

7) On average how many books do you read a month?
A. I am lucky to read one.
B. I am dedicated. I read 4 or 5.
C. I am a fiend. I read 10 or more!

Some months I don't read at all; others I read four or five books simultaneously, keeping them in different rooms and picking them up as the mood strikes. So, um, A to B.

8) Do you prefer to own or borrow?
A. There is a particular joy in owning a book. I have a large library.
B. Why spend money when you can read it for free? I use the public library.
C. Different tools for different job. I do both.

C.

9) Where do you get (the majority) your book news?
A. Newspapers.
B. Magazines.
C. TV
D. Blogs.

I don't really get "book news", per se. D, I guess, in a way.

10) Are books a professional obsession?
A. Yes, I work in the field (writer, reviewer, publisher, teacher, etc.).
B. No, I do it for fun.
C. Kinda, I write the occasional review but have a regular job outside of books.

B.

Signs.

The funniest thing about this is the dry "what is it now?" tone of the article. The second funniest is the term "crop artists".

[Via Dean Esmay.]

These are getting more and more time consuming.

Word game via Ben Kepple, who got it from Emily Jones:

1. Take five books off your bookshelf.
2. Book No. 1 -- first sentence.
3. Book No. 2 -- last sentence on page fifty.
4. Book No. 3 -- second sentence on page one hundred.
5. Book No. 4 -- next to the last sentence on page one hundred fifty.
6. Book No. 5 -- final sentence of the book.
7. Make the five sentences into a paragraph.

A prince was born to the royal line of England on January 6, 1367, in the abbey of St. Andre at Bordeaux and given the name of Richard. He was allowed only one cup of coffee. He knows more about the Regiment than the Adjutant, and could not make a mistake if he tried. Yet the latter's position was still not as commanding as he wanted it to be. Our story closes here, as the terms on which Richard relinquished his conquests are to be found in every history of the period.

Book titles furnished on request.

Always late.

I think I may be the last conservative on earth to link to Chris Hitchens' takedown of Fahrenheit 911; I figured everyone who reads this would have picked it up elsewhere, but Greg disabused me of that notion.

Meanwhile, I'm working on what might be a series of posts about the two one-act opera premieres I attended Saturday night in Cincinnati, which will be of particular interest to Bernadine. Four words for you, B: Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks.

Haarrrr.

You are The Cap'n!

Some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any man that stands between them and the mantle of power. You never met a man you couldn't eviscerate. Not that mindless violence is the only avenue open to you - but why take an avenue when you have complete freeway access? You are the definitive Man of Action. You are James Bond in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. Your swash was buckled long ago and you have never been so sure of anything in your life as in your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off their head if they show any sign of taking you on or backing down. You cannot be saddled with tedious underlings, but if one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!

Lazy blogging.

Been seeing it everywhere, lifted it from Sheila. Films I've seen in bold, those I only saw on the small screen asterisked.

The Top 100 Grossing Movies (with snide on the side)

1. Titanic - My reactions to this one were a mixed bag; first, most strongly, I wanted to punch that old lady for throwing a diamond of great historical significance into the damn ocean for her own selfish purposes, without a thought for her granddaughter. Thanks for pissing away my college education, Grandma. Second, I found the romance between the principles wildly miscast; DiCaprio seemed in constant danger of being crushed like a lettuce leaf by the robust Ms. Winslet. Third, Cameron lifted the best part of the movie nearly shot for shot from the far superior "A Night To Remember". So when it ended, with me dry-eyed and annoyed, I turned around (front row seats, the theater was packed) and was treated to the sight of an entire theater of weeping females of varying ages. And I laughed.
2. Star Wars
3. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial - I hated this movie. Every adult in it is evil or clueless, and I resent the hell out of having my buttons pushed in a clumsy manner. This movie lies at the root of my distrust of Spielberg.
4. Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace - Terrible. The kid playing "Annie" kept reminding me of the youngest kid on "Eight is Enough" (that mushroom cap hair cut--agggh), and that's just bad casting when he's supposed to turn into the baddest mofo in the universe two movies hence. Where's Damien when you need him?
5. Spider-Man - Ok, but...come on, Toby McGuire? Or Tobey. However he spells it, he has the speaking voice of a dork.
6. Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
7. Passion of the Christ
8. Jurassic Park
9. Shrek 2
10. Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
11. Finding Nemo*
12. Forrest Gump*
13. Lion King, The - I hate this movie. Just as I hate every Disney attempt at social engineering. And the songs suck ass.
14. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
15. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
16. Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones - an improvement over Episode I, but not enough. Unfocused plot, and replacing the "Eight is Enough" kid with Hayden Christiansen (or is it Christian Haydensen?) gets us no closer to the badass requirements of the future Darth Vader.
17. Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi - This is where the franchise started to smell, with the planet of the teddy bears. Goddamn, if I wanted to see the Care Bear movie, I would have gone to see it in college.
18. Independence Day
19. Pirates of the Caribbean
20. Sixth Sense, The (1999) - One of my favorite theater moments: maybe halfway through the film, older brother Sean realizes what the plot twist is, and bursts out with, "Well, godDAMN," in an aggrieved tone of voice. Heads whipped around toward him, but he didn't elaborate, and I cracked up. I mean, he wouldn't want to ruin it for everyone.
21. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back
22. Home Alone* - Words cannot describe how much I loathe this movie. Sadistic slapstick is the lowest form of theater. And no, I don't like f'n Punch'n'Judy, either.
23. Matrix Reloaded, The
24. Shrek
25. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
26. How the Grinch Stole Christmas
27. Jaws* - Just gets better every time I see it.
28. Monsters, Inc.
29. Batman - Another franchise I hate; at least I stopped going to these about the time they cast the talentless Chris O'Donnell as Robin (and on a semi-related rant, who the hell thought he'd make a good update for Buster Keaton in "The Bachelor" (a remake of Keaton's hilarious and exhilarating "Seven Chances")? Wouldn't you think remaking a great silent comedy would require someone who was both physical and, I don't know, funny?) Anyway. The whole franchise is too dark. You'd think they were rationing lightbulbs in Gotham City.
30. Men in Black
31. Toy Story 2
32. Bruce Almighty
33. Raiders of the Lost Ark
34. Twister
35. My Big Fat Greek Wedding
36. Ghost Busters
37. Beverly Hills Cop
38. Cast Away
39. Lost World: Jurassic Park, The
40. Signs
41. Rush Hour 2*
42. Mrs. Doubtfire
43. Ghost (1990) - Vomit.
44. Aladdin
45. Saving Private Ryan* - Thanks to Bern and Scott for making me watch it.
46. Mission: Impossible II
47. X2
48. Austin Powers in Goldmember*
49. Back to the Future
50. Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me
51. Terminator 2: Judgment Day
52. Exorcist, The* - Every time I watch this I'm astonished by Linda Blair's performance. And I just love Max von Sydow.
53. Mummy Returns, The - What an utter betrayal by the director. I've never seen a bigger dropoff between two movies in the same series.
54. Armageddon*
55. Gone with the Wind
56. Pearl Harbor
57. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
58. Toy Story (1995)
59. Men in Black II*
60. Gladiator - Ridley Scott should stick to sci-fi. He sucks at history, special effects notwithstanding.
61. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs*
62. Dances with Wolves - proud to have never subjected myself to this.
63. Batman Forever
64. Fugitive, The
65. Ocean's Eleven - This one sort of puzzled me, though I enjoyed it in a mindless way. What the hell was up with the makeup, wardrobe, and lighting people and their vendetta against Julia Roberts in this movie? She looked like 4 miles of bad road, and everybody else looked great.
66. What Women Want*
67. Perfect Storm, The
68. Liar Liar*
69. Grease*
70. Jurassic Park III
71. Mission: Impossible - If you're going to remake an old tv series, here's something: don't make the hero into the villain. Good God, what a piece of crap this was.
72. Planet of the Apes - I have seen the original, but I think this is the remake. Not really clear.
73. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
74. Pretty Woman*
75. Tootsie
76. Top Gun
77. There's Something About Mary* - I resisted, but Loraine made me watch it. And I laughed, against my will. I was wrong about this one.
78. Ice Age
79. Crocodile Dundee
80. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York
81. Elf
82. Air Force One
83. Rain Man - I didn't despise it, but I wouldn't sit through it again.
84. Apollo 13
85. Matrix, The
86. Beauty and the Beast
87. Tarzan (1999)
88. Beautiful Mind, A
89. Chicago
90. Three Men and a Baby* - Schlock. And schlock with shitty values.
91. Meet the Parents
92. Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves - This is the film I point to when people ask me why I hate Kevin Costner. Any movie with Alan Rickman and Morgan Freeman ought to be watchable. It's not, and it's mostly Costner's fault.
93. Hannibal - Silly.
94. Catch Me If You Can
95. Big Daddy
96. Sound of Music, The*
97. Batman Returns
98. Bug's Life, A*
99. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
100. Waterboy, The*

Top 100 Grossing Movies adjusted for inflation.

1 Gone With the Wind
2 Star Wars
3 The Sound of Music*
4 E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial
5 The Ten Commandments*
6 Titanic
7 Jaws*
8 Doctor Zhivago*
9 The Exorcist*
10 Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs*
11 101 Dalmatians
12 The Empire Strikes Back
13 Ben-Hur*
14 Return of the Jedi
15 The Sting*
16 Raiders of the Lost Ark
17 Jurassic Park
18 The Graduate*
19 The Phantom Menace
20 Fantasia
21 The Godfather
22 Forrest Gump*
23 Mary Poppins
24 The Lion King
25 Grease*
26 Thunderball*
27 The Jungle Book
28 Sleeping Beauty
29 Ghostbusters
30 Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid - I don't really know how I've managed to avoid this one, but I have. Probably because my parents never really cared for it, and any western my father doesn't like can't be much of a western.
31 Bambi
32 Independence Day
33 Love Story*
34 Beverly Hills Cop
35 Spider-Man
36 Home Alone*
37 Pinocchio
38 Cleopatra*
39 Goldfinger*
40 Airport*
41 American Graffiti*
42 The Robe*
43 Around the World in 80 Days*
44 Blazing Saddles*
45 Batman
46 The Bells of St. Mary's*
47 The Return of the King
48 The Towering Inferno*
49 National Lampoon's Animal House*
50 The Passion of the Christ
51 The Greatest Show on Earth*
52 My Fair Lady*
53 Let's Make Love
54 Back to the Future
55 The Two Towers
56 Superman
57 Smokey and the Bandit
58 The Sixth Sense
59 Finding Nemo
60 Tootsie
61 Harry Potter / Sorcerer's Stone
62 West Side Story*
63 Lady and the Tramp
64 Close Encounters of the Third Kind
65 Twister
66 Rocky - Never seen any of these. Never plan to.
67 The Best Years of Our Lives*
68 The Fellowship of the Ring
69 The Poseidon Adventure*
70 Men in Black
71 The Bridge on the River Kwai*
72 Its' a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World
73 Swiss Family Robinson*
74 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest - I tried to watch it once. Just couldn't get into it.
75 M*A*S*H* - Overrated. Wildly.
76 Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom
77 Attack of the Clones
78 Mrs. Doubtfire
79 Aladdin
80 Ghost
81 Duel in the Sun*
82 Pirates of the Caribbean
83 House of Wax*
84 Rear Window*
85 The Lost World: Jurassic Park
86 Indiana Jones & the Last Crusade
87 Terminator 2: Judgment Day
88 How the Grinch Stole Christmas
89 Sergeant York*
90 Toy Story 2
91 Top Gun
92 Shrek
93 Crocodile Dundee
94 The Matrix Reloaded
95 Saving Private Ryan*
96 The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
97 Young Frankenstein*
98 Peter Pan - again, it's not clear which version of Peter Pan this is, but I've seen them all.
99 Gremlins
100 Monsters, Inc.

Weekend roundup.

Better late than never.

Saw Riddick with Angela, see below. Saw Troy for the third time with Sean, Greg, and Kate; Sean thought the dialog was corny (which is precisely why Greg and I like it) but liked the fight scenes. His reaction to Paris: "Let's run away! I'm good at that."

Had three migraines, which was a whole new level of annoying for me. Not the painful kind, for which I am suitably grateful, but it was disorienting to round the corner of the back freezer section at Sam's Club and suddenly start seeing a jagged semi-circle of oscillating light in the periphery of my vision. Lasted about 10 minutes, followed by a mild headache. I was going to casually mention it to the doctor the next time I saw him. After driving back to Ohio Sunday night I had two more, one right after the other, with nausea this time, and woke up the next morning with a pounding headache (though not bad enough to get me out of work.) So I scuttled to the doctor Monday morning and am now sitting on a bottle of Imitrex waiting impatiently for another light show to kick off so I don't feel like I wasted my money. [One would think, also, that one's insurance company would accomodate one in the area of migraine medication in that they would not dare to throw up roadblocks in the way of one's acquisition of said medication. One would be wrong, of course.]

Watched as much of the Reagan funeral on Friday as I could between bites of lunch at Nan's*, and then watched the first half again at Angela's via the miracle of digital recording. As Bernadine noted via email last week, he was probably the greatest president we'll see in our lifetimes, and I'm grateful he came along when he did so I didn't have to spend my college years listening to Carter asking the rest of the world for more gruel. He left the country better than he found it; I can't imagine a better legacy.

*Paternal grandmother, last remaining grandparent. Great cook.

Chronicles of Riddick.

It was...eh. I didn't hate it. The iconography looked great, but Vin Diesel deflated the whole project every time he opened his mouth, and he got more screentime and dialog than anyone. Some of the effects are neat, some are crappy; Judi Dench as an air elemental was nifty, but the catlike critters running around terrorizing the prisoners on Crematoria (which I can't even type without rolling my eyes) were cartoonish, to put it kindly. Also, I thought there was an implicit anti-Christian message underlying the setup of the necromongers (convert or die, attacking the peaceful inhabitants of "New Mecca", etc.) and that tempered my enjoyment of the spectacle.

A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Via Ace of Spades (who got it from Michele), the Peter Schmies' word classification test. My score: a vocab-nerdly 172.

O'Reilly.

I watched the coverage on Fox, and didn't change the channel. Leading rant: Chirac is insulting the US by refusing to attend Reagan's funeral.

Frankly, I don't mind if he doesn't. His presence would add nothing.

Funeral notes.

Cheney's eulogy:
He got me. Good, graceful speech.

"America the Beautiful":
Well-sung, but I have an unreasoning dislike of that song.

Benediction:
"Totalitarian towers tumbled"--that's a bit precious, isn't it? I like alliteration in its place, but that just sounded like showing off. Also, third "shining city on a hill" reference by my count. It's a great quote, but not if everybody uses it. Still better than the opener.

Nancy:
Looks unnaturally good, frankly. I almost wish she'd worn red.

Also.

Interjecting "ah" for emphasis midstream in your feelgood "Good News for Modern Man" prayer sounds bizarrely archaic, pretentious, and completely false. He should have dealt with the fact that he's neither Tennyson nor Wordsworth and crossed it out of the text. All things considered, I'd rather have heard Jesse Jackson; at least he knows how to make a prayer sound like more like a prayer than a seminar on getting in touch with your feelings.

Call me an unremitting bitch...

...but "empower us" is not a phrase I care to hear in the opening prayer for Reagan's funeral. Fuck that newspeak gibberish.

Public service announcement.

Because Paula called it to my attention that the Blogger comment system wants--nay, nearly demands that you register, I've re-enabled the old backBlog comments. I hate registering and I'm all about the communications. Feel the love, people.

Pots and kettles.

Angela just forwarded the following AJC article to me (requires registration):

Rabbi calls Madonna 'slut'

This is, of course, on a par with "Pope declares water wet"--but there's an added dollop of irony:

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, the former friend and adviser to Michael Jackson, has attacked the Material Mom, calling her a "slut" and a "vulgarian."

The cherry on the cake, the reaction of Madonna's "people":

"I find Rabbi Boteach's comments regarding Madonna frightening," said Liz Rosenberg. "His vile attacks on her character and as an artist are staggering for someone who professes to be a religious person. ... I suggest this man take a look at his own character and what problems he may have that would make him feel that he should make statements about a truly beautiful human being that he does not know in the slightest."

"Frightening"? Really? How is calling her a slut and a vulgarian "frightening"? And, by the way, we all "know" Madonna; she's been very insistent about foisting herself on the public at all given opportunities. As Bernadine always used to say, you can't yell "Free Cookies!" at the top of your lungs and then get mad when someone tries to take one.

Black Walnut Ice Cream

Puree in a food processor (about 2 min.):
1/2 cup black walnuts
2 Tbsp. white corn syrup

Scald in a heavy saucepan over medium heat:
1 cup half and half

Stir into hot half and half until dissolved:
1/2 cup sugar

With the food processor running, pour hot half and half mixture into nut puree and process until completely smooth. Pour through a seive into a clean bowl and allow to cool slightly, then stir in:
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/4 tsp. black walnut extract
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cup heavy cream

Refrigerate until very cold (about 4 hours) or overnight. Freeze according to your ice cream maker's directions, adding 2 Tbsp. of black walnut meats in the last 5 minutes of freezing (or to taste).

You're welcome.

Roland Emmerich can stuff it.

Guilty pleasure: I love disaster porn, the more spectacularly ridiculous the better. As I was telling Angela last night, who doesn't want to see LA ripped apart by giant tornadoes? Who doesn't want to see the Statue of Liberty up to her armpits in water? Not in real life, of course, but I'm talking about the kind of giggly frisson you got the first time you saw the Statue of Liberty's head on the beach in Planet of the Apes and realized Charlton Heston was on Earth. I was actually set to pay matinee price to watch The Day After Tomorrow, despite the fact that I know in advance the "science" it's based on is absolute horseshit.

And then I read this translation of a German interview with Emmerich in Tim Blair's comments [Note: Today's Bleat does a better job dissecting the interview than I have. Feel free to skip all the following and go read that.]

Q: Will the anti-Bush mood outside of America be conducive to the success of the film?

A: I had no idea that Bush would get up to all the things he did eventually. During the last election campaign I was already writing the script. I hope America comes to its senses. They have been so lied to by the government. For us Europeans this is crystal clear, but also for a few Americans. However there are still 50% of Americans who want to vote for Bush – this is absolutely inconceivable for me.

Q: Don´t you get into all kinds of trouble when you as a German take such a stand?

Hold it right there. What a stupid fucking question. No one in the US gives two shits what some German filmmaker thinks about our system of government. No one in the government, no one in the private sector--no one.

A: As I already told my mother, they probably won´t let me back in. (laughs)

If only.

Q: But you are not the only one fulminating against Bush. Many filmmakers think the same way.

A: That is indeed new and it is good. I admire colleagues who are commited to political awareness and engage in a critical discourse with people.

No, it is neither, but neither is it terribly surprising. "New"? We've had all the usual suspects spouting the same tired lefty crap about Bush being Hitler (now, there's critical discourse for you) since he got elected--er, stole the election. It's like you ninnies are all singing from the same hymnal, if you'll pardon the Christian metaphor.

[Skipping his laughable recap of the last presidential election.]

Q: Are these things really communicated in the open?

A: Yes, for the first time there are now open discussions.

I love this. This is my favorite quote. Like the US has been behind an Iron Curtain and is just now emerging into the glorious light of liberty for the first time. You know, like when the wall finally came down in East Berlin. In Germany. [polite cough]

Q: Whereas the infamous Patriot Act has even succeeded in muzzling media.

Sadly, the Patriot Act hasn't even dampened their ardor.

A: That is a giant problem. As soon as you criticize something, you are no longer a patriot. What about that?

1) Roland--you're not an American. You aren't a patriot, at least in regards to the US, and never were. 2) Regarding those of your acquaintance who are US citizens and feel aggrieved because some of their fellow citizens have expressed displeasure with their opinions--tough. It amuses the hell out of me that leftists always bleat about wanting debate and reasoned discourse, and they're the first ones to shout down a conservative speaker at a rally or a campus lecture, and the first ones to cry that their feelings are hurt when a contrary view is expressed. And you know what? When you actively work against the interests of your own country, you're not a patriot.

America is the oldest democracy in the world. Since then they have totally developed beckwards. Euope was most of the time under monarchic influence [sic], but is today three or four times as democratic as America. I hope this will soon change. I think that will work out.

I think what we have here is a confusion in terms. Europe isn't a democracy; the individual countries that comprise Europe may have, to varying degrees, elected governments, but the top EU posts in Brussels are not elected. If Emmerich is happy with that situation, good for him, but that doesn't make it a democracy.

There's more, and it would be hilarious if it wasn't so annoying. The upshot is that I'm not spending a single cent to see any movie Emmerich makes from here on out. It's the least I can do as a patriot.

Casting disasters.

Gwyneth Paltrow as Marlene Dietrich. Let me think about it.

Ok, that's enough: No. It's like casting Ben Affleck as Cary Grant.

Great news.

The first volume of The Complete Peanuts is out. (But buy it here, it's cheaper.) Excellent review in the American Spectator.

[Found via the Western Standard.]

Troy.

I'm astonished at the level of vitriol being dumped on this movie. Yes, we all know it's more fun to write a negative review, but while Troy is hardly a perfect film, it certainly doesn't deserve the scorn being heaped upon it by people who should know better (I'm looking at you, Ebert.) In fact, if I were to damn the enterprise with faint praise, the least I could say for it is that it beats the hell out of Gladiator, which travesty of history was greeted with swooning delight by critics and the public at large. Still, the audience will judge a work as they see fit. But there are a few points I'd like to make in defense of the film:

The film isn't called The Iliad for a reason, and that reason is that it's not a direct adaptation of The Iliad. Homer didn't originate the story of the Trojan war. He wrote the best-known versions of two parts of the saga in the Iliad and the Odyssey, but these are not the only source materials. The choice of Paris (i.e., the selection of the most beautiful among Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite and subsequent awarding of Helen) does not appear in the Iliad. Neither does the abduction of Helen. Neither does the Trojan horse. Neither do the deaths of Achilles, nor Paris, nor Agamemnon. Criticisms based on a supposed lack of fidelity to the Iliad would seem to miss the point in this regard.

For those waxing wroth over the fact that Troy compresses the timeline and doesn't present the story as a ten-year seige: I'm absolutely agog to hear suggestions as to how to keep the narrative on point and cover ten years in a three hour movie. Hell, it took Peter Jackson THREE MOVIES and something like TWELVE HOURS to adequately cover the events of a single year in the Lord of the Rings saga, and even with that much space to spread out in he completely hosed up the pacing in the third film so that it appears to be a 15-minute ride to the Morannon from Minas Tirith, despite the fact that the same journey took Frodo half the length of the film. (Granted, he was walking/staggering.) The narrowing of the scope of the film seems an entirely sensible compromise.

For those further waxing wroth over the absence of the gods: you've got to be joking. Has it really been so long since Clash of the Titans that you're actually prepared to swear you'd treat the movie seriously if you'd seen Paris being wafted away in the middle of his fight with Menelaus on Aphrodite's cloud? Because that's precisely how he escapes being butchered in the text, and I frankly can't imagine not snickering. The film isn't being presented as mythology; it's being presented as a quasi-historical version of events--much as King Arthur is purported to be (the critical drubbing being extended to Troy doesn't bode well for this film. I can already hear the weeping over the abandonment of Mallory's text. Gad.) Besides, apart from the issue of believability, the movie already has a large cast; adding the gods to the script would only further diffuse the focus of the story.

Having seen it twice I find some of the casting criticisms bizarre, but I won't argue with subjective opinion. I think Brad Pitt is just fine as Achilles. Eric Bana is as steady and somber as Hector ought to be. Orlando Bloom is perfectly-cast as Paris (the worst character in Western literature); he's a doe-eyed prettyboy--which is kinda the point--if a bit too much of a thickie as written. As a bonus, he and Bana also actually looked quite a bit like brothers on-screen. Brian Cox is gloriously hammy as Agamemnon; Brendan Gleeson is good as Menelaus (my personal favorite scene in the film is the ass-kicking he gives Paris. He just looks completely nuts from the helmet-cam perspective. Sure, it's cheesy. But it adds an indefinable something.) I'm pleased to say Peter O'Toole brought his screen presence with him, and as an added bonus you get Nigel Terry as his spiritual advisor. All the women are fine in their parts, under-written as they are; even Helen doesn't get a lot of dialog, but the film never purported to be an exploration of her tormented soul, and I'm good with that.

In all, it's not the greatest film I've ever seen and it didn't force me to reevaluate my entire existence, but I don't generally require that of a film. It's just an engrossing story competently written, shot, acted, and directed. I wouldn't think to ask for more.

Addendum: Bill McCabe may never forgive me if I don't point out that the legendary Sean Bean is excellent as Odysseus.

That was a hell of a thing.

I just watched Randy Johnson throw a perfect game against the Braves. Just when I finally get fed up enough to shun the game of games, something like this happens.

Out of their gourds in Cannes.

Like that's news to anyone.

First item: Fifty Million Frenchmen and Fat Fuck Michael Moore can, in fact, be wrong.

Second item: Sean Penn thinks there aren't nearly enough political films. The money quote:

Penn saw his Oscar win as a sign of hope.

"I think what it says is that while it's absolutely a real concern that the venue for debate is being diminished, that the tolerance for it is still in the will of the American people, still in the will of the business I work in and evidently in the will of the audience," he said.

Is it even remotely possible he thinks audiences vote for the Oscars? Moreover, I don't see how pushing a leftist agenda constitutes "debate". Michael Moore's bullshit documentaries, worshipful biopics of undertalented Stalin-lovin' painter Frida Kahlo, and Ollie Stone mash notes to jackbooted thug Fidel Castro seem to be the only political "art" mainstream Hollywood finds itself capable of producing--and that's not debate. That's propaganda. That is the will of the business Penn works in, and the will of the people be damned.

Links via Drudge.

Quick Van Helsing review.

Cartoonish CGI, assaultive score, bad script, some bad accents. Kevin J. O'Connor is wasted under a makeup job so cheesy ST:TNG would have rejected it, his few soft-spoken wisecracks obscured by the blaring soundtrack and sabotaged by the editing. Hugh Jackman spends his time trying to look sensitive and serious in a role that would have benefitted from some over-the-top swagger. (C'mon, guy, you've got a gas-powered machinegun-action crossbow. Rambo it up a little.) Kate Beckinsale labors to deliver turgid lines in a wavering Bela Lugosi accent. Richard Roxburgh has borne the brunt of the acting criticism for a hammy performance, but when contrasted against the rest of the performances, he was at least moderately entertaining.

Look, it's a popcorn movie. Don't pay full price. Hit the matinee, take some cotton for your ears, sit back and let it wash over you, and don't ask too many questions.

No, I don't know either.

Neither why it's taking for fargin' ever to load this stupid page, nor why the links are hosed. As God is my witness, I typed the anchor tags in the previous post out manually; how Blogger managed to mangle the second and third ones is beyond my ken. It probably has something to do with the fact that I get an error every time I try to publish, although the page publishes anyway. Nice relaunch, guys. The playpretties are no good if they don't actually work.

Update: Ok, now the links are fixed, though I'm not quite sure how I did it. Publishing is still a mess, at least on my end.

Like school, you keep me young.

All the cool kids are doing it, so I thought I might as well join in and flaunt that oh-so valuable English degree (and possibly reveal the parochial nature of my literary tastes.) Titles in bold have been sucessfully completed; titles in italics have been attempted and abandoned either temporarily or out of varying degrees of exasperation.

Beowulf – Verse and prose translations.
Achebe, Chinua - Things Fall Apart
Agee, James - A Death in the Family
Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice
Baldwin, James - Go Tell It on the Mountain
Beckett, Samuel - Waiting for Godot – Hell no.
Bellow, Saul - The Adventures of Augie March
Bronte, Charlotte - Jane Eyre
Bronte, Emily - Wuthering Heights
Camus, Albert - The Stranger
Cather, Willa - Death Comes for the Archbishop
Chaucer, Geoffrey - The Canterbury Tales
Chekhov, Anton - The Cherry Orchard
Chopin, Kate - The Awakening
Conrad, Joseph - Heart of Darkness
Cooper, James Fenimore - The Last of the Mohicans – I liked it. I don’t care what Twain says.
Crane, Stephen - The Red Badge of Courage
Dante - Inferno
de Cervantes, Miguel - Don Quixote
Defoe, Daniel - Robinson Crusoe
Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor - Crime and Punishment
Douglass, Frederick - Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
Dreiser, Theodore - An American Tragedy
Dumas, Alexandre - The Three Musketeers
Eliot, George - The Mill on the Floss
Ellison, Ralph - Invisible Man
Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Selected Essays – “To be great is to be misunderstood.” Whatever you say, Ralph.
Faulkner, William - As I Lay Dying
Faulkner, William - The Sound and the Fury
Fielding, Henry - Tom Jones
Fitzgerald, F. Scott - The Great Gatsby
Flaubert, Gustave - Madame Bovary
Ford, Ford Madox - The Good Soldier
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von - Faust
Golding, William - Lord of the Flies
Hardy, Thomas - Tess of the d’Urbervilles
Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Scarlet Letter
Heller, Joseph - Catch 22
Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms
Homer - The Iliad
Homer - The Odyssey
Hugo, Victor - The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hurston, Zora Neale - Their Eyes Were Watching God
Huxley, Aldous - Brave New World
Ibsen, Henrik - A Doll’s House
James, Henry - The Portrait of a Lady
James, Henry - The Turn of the Screw
Joyce, James - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Kafka, Franz - The Metamorphosis
Kingston, Maxine Hong - The Woman Warrior – The one interesting book in that damned ChickLit course.
Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird
Lewis, Sinclair - Babbitt
London, Jack - The Call of the Wild
Mann, Thomas - The Magic Mountain – the big thing was Death in Venice when I was in college.
Marquez, Gabriel Garcia - One Hundred Years of Solitude
Melville, Herman - Bartleby the Scrivener
Melville, Herman - Moby Dick – I liked the technical whaling info. It was Billy Budd that made me want to kill.
Miller, Arthur - The Crucible
Morrison, Toni – Beloved - Also The Bluest Eye. Agh.
O’Connor, Flannery - “A Good Man is Hard to Find”
O’Neill, Eugene - Long Day’s Journey into Night
Orwell, George - Animal Farm
Pasternak, Boris - Doctor Zhivago
Plath, Sylvia - The Bell Jar – Good God, no.
Poe, Edgar Allan - Selected Tales – I’ve read them all.
Proust, Marcel - Swann’s Way
Pynchon, Thomas - The Crying of Lot 49
Remarque, Erich Maria - All Quiet on the Western Front
Rostand, Edmond - Cyrano de Bergerac
Roth, Henry - Call It Sleep
Salinger, J.D. - The Catcher in the Rye
Shakespeare, William - Hamlet
Shakespeare, William - Macbeth
Shakespeare, William - A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Shakespeare, William - Romeo and Juliet
Shaw, George Bernard - Pygmalion
Shelley, Mary - Frankenstein
Silko, Leslie Marmon - Ceremony
Solzhenitsyn, Alexander - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich
Sophocles - Antigone
Sophocles - Oedipus Rex
Steinbeck, John - The Grapes of Wrath
Stevenson, Robert Louis - Treasure Island
Stowe, Harriet Beecher - Uncle Tom’s Cabin
Swift, Jonathan - Gulliver’s Travels
Thackeray, William - Vanity Fair – The wittier version of War and Peace.
Thoreau, Henry David - Walden
Tolstoy, Leo - War and Peace
Turgenev, Ivan - Fathers and Sons
Twain, Mark - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Voltaire - Candide
Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. - Slaughterhouse-Five
Walker, Alice - The Color Purple
Wharton, Edith - The House of Mirth
Welty, Eudora - Collected Stories
Whitman, Walt - Leaves of Grass
Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorian Gray
Williams, Tennessee - The Glass Menagerie
Woolf, Virginia - To the Lighthouse
Wright, Richard - Native Son

There’s a strong whiff of multiculturalist revisionism coming off this list (not to mention a dearth of Roman authors); putting Alice Walker on the same level as Jane Austen is a crime against literature. Personal additions (by no means exhaustive):

The Arabian Nights
Aristophanes – Birds, Clouds, Frogs. Take your pick.
Bunyan, John - Pilgrim's Progress
Gilgamesh
Gogol, Nikolai - The Nose, The Inspector General
Graves, Robert - I, Claudius
Grimm, The Brothers - Grimm's Fairy Tales
Machiavelli, Niccolo - The Prince
Milton, John - Paradise Lost
Mitchell, Margaret - Gone With the Wind
Scott, Sir Walter - Ivanhoe
Shakespeare - Julius Caesar and King Lear
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
Tacitus - The Annals and The Histories
Vergil - The Aeneid


Poets: Auden, Dickinson, Donne, Frost, Nash, Pope, Pushkin, Tennyson, Wordsworth.

Feh.

Typically shitty Blogger implementation.

Update: The big kink seems to be the publishing feature, which keeps hanging up. Just like it used to. I wish they wouldn't break the parts that work.

Blogger changes.

Looks like Blogger has changed its interface yet again and added comment ability. Likely to be some confusion around here till I get this straightened out; old comments are likely to be snuffed out at some point.

Baseball is dead to me.

MLB strikes a sweetheart deal with unrighteous Mammon:

In the latest example of a sponsor's stamp on the sports world, ads for the movie "Spider-Man 2" will be placed atop bases at 15 major league ballparks during games from June 11-13.

According to an article Paula sent me yesterday, they originally wanted to spiderweb the foul nets behind the plate, but it was conjectured that that might interfere with play, for some reason.

The promotion, announced Wednesday, is part of baseball's pitch to appeal to younger fans - and make money along the way.

You know what? Screw the younger fans. 1) they can't see the bases from the stands anyway, and 2) chances are they're too busy playing grabass and flicking boogers on each other to care.

"This was a unique chance to combine what is a sort of a universally popular character and our broad fan base, including the youth market we're trying to reach out to," said Bob DuPuy, baseball's chief operating officer. "It doesn't impact the play or performance of the game."

No, it doesn't impact the play (I hate using impact as a verb, btw.) It does remove whatever tattered shreds of dignity remained to the game and exposes everyone involved as the whores they are, though.

[...] The ads, about 4-by-4-inches with a red background and yellow webbing, won't appear on home plate.

Again, no one's going to be able to see them, except via camera.

[...] "We need to reach out to a younger demographic to bring them to the ballpark," Parkes said. "They are looking for nontraditional breakthrough ways to convey 'Spider-Man' messaging. ... It's the future of how we generate excitement inside the stadium and about the game itself."

What about my demographic--you know, people who work and have disposable income? How the fuck is a 4" square ad going to generate excitement for anybody?

Baseball will receive about $3.6 million in a deal negotiated by Major League Baseball Properties with Marvel Studios and Columbia Pictures, a division of Sony Inc., a high-ranking baseball executive said on condition of anonymity.

The New York Yankees and Boston Red Sox will get more than $100,000 each, one team executive said, also on condition of anonymity. Most of the other 13 teams playing at home that weekend will get about $50,000 apiece, the team executive said.

Of course the Yankees get extra. It wouldn't be baseball if the distribution was equitable.

[...] Ralph Nader, a presidential candidate and consumer advocate, criticized the deal. He wrote Tuesday to baseball commissioner Bud Selig, denouncing the decision to have ads on uniforms during the season-opening series in March between the Yankees and Tampa Bay Devil Rays in Tokyo.

"It's gotten beyond grotesque," Nader said. "The fans have to revolt here. Otherwise, they'll be looking at advertisements between advertisements."

Ten thousand devils plague Bud Selig and his minions for this: they have forced me to agree with Ralph Nader on something.

[...] In separate promotions, the bases also will feature pink ribbons Sunday as part of a Mother's Day promotion to raise breast-cancer awareness, and they will have blue ribbons on Father's Day, June 20, to raise prostate-cancer awareness.

Brief side rant: ENOUGH WITH THE FUCKING RIBBONS. I'M FUCKING AWARE. THE RIBBONS HAVE LONG SINCE STOPPED REMINDING ME OF ANYTHING BUT THE WEARER'S PRETENSIONS TO MORAL SUPERIORITY.

And now the best part of this whole thing:

John Hirschbeck, head of the World Umpires Association, said the ads won't make it harder for umpires to make calls at the bases. And it wouldn't bother him if umpires' uniforms had ads - as long as they share the profit.

"We've got it on jockeys' pants. Why not?" he said.

If you don't know, Hirschbeck, you ignorant slut, I guess there's no point in talking about it. All my baseball shit goes in the dumpster tonight.

Shut up and drink the Kool-Aid.

Because there is no silly game I won't play:

1. Grab the nearest CD.
2. Put it in your CD-Player (or start your mp3-player, I-tunes, etc.).
3. Skip to Song 3 (or load the 3rd song in your 3rd playlist)
4. Post the first verse in your journal along with these instructions. Don’t name the band, nor the album-title.

Along about round-up time In Texas way out West
I lost a friend and a pal, boys I laid him down to rest
I weeped and moaned over his grave and to me boys it was sad
'Cause I knew down beneath that mound lay the best pal I ever had

[Emily gets the credit or blame, because I saw it there first.]

Couple o' links.

Neurotically Yours, via Dean Esmay (from a day or two ago; so funny I want to be able to find it again, so I'm posting it here.)

And from the where-are-they-now files, today's Wham update on Ace o' Spades. Be warned: the picture is startling.

Boycott the Derby.

It's what the jockeys were threatening to do if they didn't get to wear ads on their pants.

LOUISVILLE, Ky. -- Jockeys can wear advertising patches during the Kentucky Derby, a judge ruled Thursday.

U.S. District Judge John Heyburn II's decision two days before the country's premier horse race applies only to seven jockeys who sued, including Jerry Bailey, Alex Solis, Jose Santos, and John Velazquez.

They cited the First Amendment in successfully asking that the judge grant a preliminary injunction to block enforcement of a state rule that bars jockeys from wearing advertising, promotional or cartoon symbols during races.

I wasn't aware the founding fathers were so prescient that they actually drafted a right to sell advertising space on one's clothing right into the Constitution. Silly me, I thought the first amendment only applied to political speech. Guess that's why I'm not a goddamn US District Judge.

The jockeys issued a statement after the ruling, saying the ads would be tasteful.

Oh, heavens, yes. Just like NASCAR, which we all know is all about the tasteful.

"We are very sensitive to the traditions of our sport and our goal is not to offend anyone," said Bailey, a two-time Derby winner who will ride Wimbledon on Saturday.

If you were actually sensitive to the traditions of the sport, this issue wouldn't have come up.

"Jockeys work very hard and risk our lives on a daily basis. We have earned the right to make additional income," he said.

I look forward to the opening of the jockey brothel next door to the Downs, then.

Jockey Pat Day, not part of either lawsuit, said before the ruling that the case could have a major impact on the sport.

"The industry is going through some dramatic changes," said Day, Churchill Downs' winningest rider. "It would be nice to stick with tradition, but we also have to do what's best for the game and for the longevity of the game."

I'll be goddamned. I didn't know Bud Selig had branched out to other sports. [Thanks to Paula for the link.]

The first stirrings of unease re Kong.

First, the good news: casting.

Naomi Watts will play the big ape's love object, Ann Darrow. Adrien Brody will play Darrow's boyfriend, former WWII pilot Jack Driscoll, and Jack Black will be blustery adventurer Carl Denham, who imports Kong to Manhattan.

Jack Black is perfect for Denham. Watts and Brody will be adequate, if dull. Now the bad news: Peter Jackson has lost his fucking mind.

"Everybody's image of 'King Kong' is that it's this amazing beauty-and-the-beast love story. And when you look at the original film, there is as sense that Kong is feeling an attraction toward Ann-probably the first empathy he's felt in his life toward another living creature. But Ann is not giving him a thing. She just looks at him as an object of horror the entire time. She screams at him, she's terrified. Her relationship with Kong doesn't go beyond that. We're having a lot of fun making it more psychologically real."

DUDE. You're making a movie about a giant goddamn monkey. What the hell does that even mean in this context, psychologically real? Are we going to be forced to sit through three hours of Watts and Brody crying like hobbits? Look, this is not Shakespeare. You've basically got a freakishly large monkey, a chick, and the Empire State building to work with. Do not fuck this up by drenching it in emotional excess.

Somewhere Julia Child is laughing her ass off.

We're apparently in the middle of a renaissance of variety meats, which is excellent. If the trend comes down to my being able to buy lamb and veal kidneys at Meijer I'm for it. (For steak and kidney pie. Stop looking at me like that, it's delicious.)

[Via Arts & Letters Daily.]

Torturing Clio.

Once again Hollywood prepares to savage the muse of History so Tom Cruise can put caviar on the table:

THE BATTLE OF BRITAIN WAS WON BY A SINGLE AMERICAN AIRMAN (...OR SO HOLLYWOOD IS ABOUT TO TELL US)

Winston Churchill said it was our "finest hour", but yesterday it was revealed the Battle of Britain was won single-handedly by Tom Cruise. Amid outrage from the West's war veterans and military historians, a new Hollywood film will claim that one American, Billy Fiske - played by Cruise - was responsible for the 1940 victory.

Ok, so filming hasn't started yet, and I'm jumping on the bash-Hollywood bandwagon before it's properly left the gate. Not to mention the fact that the people quoted in the article frankly sound like they have an enormous chip on their collective shoulders regarding America's part in WWII. When it comes to Cruise, however, any gun-jumping I do before the fact is absolutely justified--nay, righteous--since he so often proves me right after the fact.

Resign yourself. There will be bitching.

[Via Plastic Gangster, who's just a bit peeved by the news.]

Nothing like having your finger on the pulse of the nation.

One would think a film that's grossed $361M domestically in two months would have no problem being picked up for television re-broadcast, particularly a film pitched toward the Easter holiday season like "The Passion of the Christ". One would be wrong, of course.

The movie's graphic scenes of Jesus' crucifixion are said to make broadcasters skittish, particularly in the post-Janet Jackson era, when government officials are closely watching what goes on television.

Not to make untoward comparisons about Janet Jackson being martyred or anything, but are we really going to conflate the scourging and crucifixion of Christ with tit-flashing during a major sporting event?

Besides the film's violent content, a network that airs the film would also inherit controversy about it.

Yes. And we all know no one ever made any money off controversy.

Brushes with greatness.

Mike Toole shares his probably-soon-to-be-infamous story about Tom Brokaw.

My own encounters with celebrity are even more peripheral:
--spotted Col. Harlan Sanders dining in a Red Lobster in Louisville when I was about 14. Said nothing.
--ended up walking behind Rick Monday at a Mets/Dodgers game at Shea in when Paula and I got lost looking for the bathroom. I don't remember saying anything, but Paula may have asked him where the exit was.
--was snubbed by Mike Piazza at Spring training at Vero Beach the year he got traded; he signed for Elaine (with my pen), skipped me, signed several more, and ducked into the clubhouse.
--was snubbed by Stevie Nicks at a concert I went to with Angela, handshakes right and left of me.
--once briefly stalked Richard Karn outside a movie theater in Louisville.

Suzanne: "Hey, that's Al from Tool Time.
Me: "Yeah, I think you're right."

Elaine and Loraine were in the back seat and didn't see him. We went in, saw whatever movie we were there for, and as we were getting back in the car Elaine and Loraine spotted him again in the parking lot.

Loraine: "Hey, that's Al from Tool Time."
Suzanne and I: "We know. We told you that earlier."
Elaine, slipping into double-naught spy mode: "Follow him."

So we did. Down Hurstbourne Lane a couple of blocks, when he copped to the fact that he was being followed by four chicks with glasses, panicked, and zipped into a closed car dealership, so we zipped in after him and pulled up beside him. I'm not sure what he thought we were going to do to him, but whatever it was he wanted no part of it; with a look of naked, screaming terror he slammed his rental into reverse and roared out of the lot.

Elaine: "Step on it. He's getting away!"

But I suddenly came to my senses and we let him get away. I've wondered for years whether he ever mentioned it to anyone.

More in the continuing theme of undeserved hyperbole...

Michael Lind dissects Peter Singer's anti-Bush diatribe in the New Statesman; after pointing out Singer's lack of intellectual rigor (and internal consistency), Lind closes with this rather curious statement:

Bush, the worst president of my lifetime [emphasis mine, obviously--k], has the power to reduce otherwise intelligent people to sputtering rage. Singer's polemic, which tells us nothing we did not already know about Bush's beliefs, proves that it is a bad idea to sputter in print.

Granting that Lind might have been an infant during the Carter years, in consideration of the nature of the administration that ran dangerously amok during the eight years prior to Bush's ascension, I find the phrase "worst president of my lifetime" an incredible formulation, and I mean that literally. And that's really all I have to say about it; Lind has been classified and filed as a silly jackass. Moving on.

Radio shrapnel.

In response to a USA Today article about Blender magazine's compilation of the 50 worst hit tunes ever, Angela lists her five most-hated songs of all time:

1. "Too Shy" by Kajagoogoo
2. "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" by Culture Club
3. "We Built This City" by Jefferson Starship
4. "Beth" by Kiss
5. Any whiney love ballad by Tim McGraw. Just pick one. I hate them all.

Can't really argue for the artistic merits of any of those...but are they *really* the worst songs you can come up with?

The rules as expressed by Blender are somewhat arbitrary; had to be a hit, but for some damn dumb reason they excluded "I'm Too Sexy", "The Macarena", and "Who Let the Dogs Out" on the questionable grounds of intentional cheesiness, then they apparently axed the bulk of the 70s because it was too easy. So really, they just indulged themselves in a little 80s hatefest; indeed, six of the top ten (or bottom ten, if you will) date from the 80s (seven if you count Vanilla Ice. He probably stole--er, recorded "Ice Ice Baby" in 89.):

1. We Built This City - Starship 1985
2. Achy Breaky Heart - Billy Ray Cyrus 1992
3. Everybody Have Fun Tonight - Wang Chung 1986
4. Rollin' - Limpbizkit 2000
5. Ice Ice Baby - Vanilla Ice 1990
6. The Heart of Rock & Roll - Huey Lewis & The News 1984
7. Don't Worry, Be Happy - Bobby McFerrin 1988
8. Party All the Time - Eddie Murphy 1985
9. American Life - Madonna 2003
10. Ebony and Ivory - Paul McCartney, Stevie Wonder 1982

Sure, they all suck--but can anyone honestly tell me any of these songs are worse than Debbie Boone's "You Light Up My Life"? Are the lyrics to "We Built This City" really any dumber than the Holy Grail of rock tunes, "Stairway To Heaven"? So off the top of my head here's my top five of the moment, with new rules: 1) had to get radio play; "hit" is is a pretty arbitrary term these days, 2) has to make me lunge for the station button like my very life depends on not hearing the rest of the song, 3) nothing off-limits.

1. You Light Up My Life - Debbie Boone, 1977
Like an ice pick in the ear. A song tailor-made for cheesy midwestern weddings. I hate weddings.

2. Me & Bobby McGee - Janis Joplin, 1971
Faux populist profundity with the added tangy zest of faux nihilism. "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose", my ass.

3. Do Ya Think I'm Sexy - Rod Stewart, 1979
This song has nothing to redeem it.

4. Last Kiss - Pearl Jam, 1999
Eddie Vedder's clench-toothed monotone does this already shitty song no favors.

5. Home Sweet Home - Motley Crue, 1985
Mawkish sentiment is ill-paired with Roman orgy excess. One or the other, guys.

Senator Miller, I love you, and I want to have your babies.*

March 30. 2004

U.S. Senator Zell Miller
Floor Statement: 'A House Divided Cannot Stand'
Remarks as Delivered on the Senate Floor

After watching the harsh acrimony generated by the September 11 Commission - which, let me say at the outset, is made up of good and able members - I've come to seriously question this panel's usefulness.

I believe it will ultimately play a role in doing great harm to this country, for its unintended consequences, I fear, will be to energize our enemies and demoralize our troops.

After being drowned in a tidal wave of all who didn't do enough before 9/11, I have come to believe that the Commission should issue a report that says: "No one did enough in the past. No one did near enough."

Then thank everyone for serving, send them home and let's get on with the job of protecting this country in the future.

Tragically, these hearings have proved to be a very divisive diversion for this country. Tragically, they have devoured valuable time, looking backwards when we should be looking forward.

Can you imagine handling the attack on Pearl Harbor this way? Can you imagine Congress, the media and the public standing for this kind of political gamesmanship and finger pointing after that "day of infamy" in 1941?

Some partisans tried that ploy, but they were soon quieted by the patriots who understood how important it was to get on with the war and take the battle to America's enemies, and not dwell on what FDR knew when.

You see, back then the highest priority was to win a war, not win an election. That's what made them "The Greatest Generation."

I realize that many well-meaning Americans see the hearings as "democracy in action." Years ago, when I was teaching political science, I probably would have had my class watching it live on television and using that very phrase with them.

There are also the not-so-well-meaning political operatives who see these hearings as an opportunity to "score cheap points."

Then, there are the Media Meddlers who see this as "great theater" that can be played out on the evening news and on endless talk shows for a week or more.

Congressional hearings have long been one of Washington's most entertaining pastimes. Joe McCarthy. Watergate. Iran Contra. They all kept us glued to the TV, and made for conversation around the water coolers and arguments over a beer at the corner pub.

A Congressional hearing in Washington, D.C. is the ultimate aphrodisiac for political groupies and partisan punks.

But, it's not the groupies, punks and television-sotted American public that I'm worried about. This latter crowd can get excited and divided over just about anything. Whether it's some off-key wanna-be dreaming of being the American Idol, or what brainless bimbo The Bachelor or Average Joe will choose or who will Donald Trump fire next week.

No, it is the real enemies of America that I'm concerned about.

These evil killers who right now, right now are gleefully watching the shrill partisan finger pointing of these hearings and grinning like a mule eating briars.

They see this as a major split within the Great Satan America. They see anger, they see division, instability, bickering, peevishness and dissension.

They see the President of the United States hammered unmercifully. They see all this and they are greatly, greatly encouraged.

We should not be doing anything to encourage our enemies in this battle between good and evil. Yet, these hearings, in my opinion, are doing just that.

We are playing with fire. We're playing directly into the hands of our enemy by allowing these hearings to become the great divider they have become.

Dick Clarke's book and its release coinciding with these hearings have done this country a tremendous disservice, and someday we will reap its whirlwind.

Long ago, Sir Walter Scott observed that revenge is "the sweetest morsel that ever was cooked in hell."

The vindictive Clarke has now had his revenge, but what kind of hell has he, his CBS publisher and his axe-to-grind advocates unleashed?

These hearings, coming on the heels of the election the terrorists influenced in Spain, bolster and energize our evil enemies as they have not been energized since 9/11.

Chances are very good that these evil enemies of America will attempt to influence our 2004 election in a similar dramatic way as they did Spain's And to think that could never be in this country is to stick your head in the sand.

That is why the sooner we stop this endless bickering over the past and join together to prepare for the future, the better off this country will be. There are some things - whether this city believes it or not - that are just more important than political campaigns.

The recent past is so ripe for political second-guessing "gotcha" and Monday morning quarter-backing. And it is so tempting in an election year. We should not allow ourselves to indulge that temptation. We should put our country first.

Every administration from Jimmy Carter to George W. Bush bears some of the blame. Dick Clarke bears a big heap of it because it was he who was in the catbird's seat to do something about it for more than a decade. Tragically, it was the decade in which we did the least.

We did nothing after terrorists attacked the World Trade Center in 1993, killing six and injuring more than 1,000 Americans.

We did nothing in 1996 when sixteen U.S. servicemen were killed in the bombing of the Khobar Towers.

When our embassies were attacked in 1998, killing 263 people, our only response was to fire a few missiles on an empty tent.

Is it any wonder? Is it any wonder that after that decade of weak-willed responses to that murderous terror, our enemies thought we would never fight back?

In the 1990's is when Dick Clarke should have resigned. In the 1990's is when he should have apologized. That is when he should have written his book. That is, if he really had America's best interest at heart.

Some will say, "We owe it to the families" to get more information about what happened in the past and I can understand that. But no amount of finger-pointing will bring our victims back.

So, now we owe it to future families and all of America now in jeopardy not to encourage more terrorists, resulting in even more grieving families, perhaps many more over the ones of 9/11.

It's obvious to me that this country is rapidly dividing itself into two camps: the wimps and the warriors.

The ones who want to argue and assess and appease, and the ones who want to carry this fight to our enemies and kill him them before they kill us. And, in case you haven't figured it out, I proudly belong to the latter.

This is a time like no other in the history of this country, and this country is being crippled with petty partisan politics of the worst possible kind. In time of war, it is not just unpatriotic; it is stupid, and it is criminal.

So, I pray that all this time, all this energy, all this talk and all this attention could be focused on the future instead of the past.

I pray we would stop pointing fingers, assigning blame and wringing our hands about what happened on that day David McCullogh has called "the worst day in our history" more than two years ago.

And instead, pour all of our energy into how we can kill these terrorists before they kill us - again.

For make no mistake about it. They watch these hearings. They are scheming and smiling about the distraction and the divisiveness they see in America. And while they may not know who said it years ago in America, they know instinctively that a house divided cannot stand.

There is one other group that we should remember is listening to all of this - our troops.
I was in Iraq in January and one day when I was meeting with the 1st Armored Division, a unit with a proud history known as Old Ironsides, we were discussing troop morale, and the Commanding General said it was top notch.

And I turned to the Division's Sergeant Major, the top enlisted man in the division, a big, burly, 6-foot-3, 240 pound African American and I said, "That's good, but how do you sustain that kind of morale?"

Without hesitation he narrowed his eyes, and he looked at me and said "The morale will stay high just as long as these troops know the people back home support us."

Just as long as the people back home support us. What kind of message are these hearings and the outrageously political speeches on the floor of the Senate yesterday sending to those marvelous young Americans in the uniform of our country?

I say Unite America! Before it is too late! Put aside these petty partisan differences when it comes to the protection of our people.

Argue and argue and argue and debate and debate and debate over all the other things - jobs and education and the deficit and the environment - but please, please do not use the lives of Americans and the security of this country as a cheap-shot political talking point.

Thanks to Kathy C. for the original link.

*For extra credit, to whom did Edmund Blackadder address the quote, and which episode is it from?

Pointless fun.

Via Emily, via Ben Kepple, a game:

1. Grab the nearest book.

2. Open the book to page 23.

3. Find the fifth sentence.

4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

"All right, I tried," I said, and fingered it out and forked it over. -- Gambit by Rex Stout.

(Since the random obscurity of the sentences seems to be the point, I won't explain who the speaker is or what he's talking about.)

Bitch, please, part II.

This just goes right through my egalitarian soul: Spain's Prince Felipe subject to search at Miami International Airport; knickers reportedly in a twist.

"The prince and his bodyguard felt they should not be subjected to the screening, but if they do not have an escort from the State Department or the Secret Service, it is required,'' Transportation Security Administration spokeswoman Lauren Stover said. "It's the law.''

The couple had only given six hours notice instead of the standard three days required by the State Department for an expedited security check, the newspaper reported.

Am I supposed to take European royalty seriously now? Hell, I didn't even realize Spain still had a crown prince. Seems a bit...anachronistic.

Miami-Dade County Mayor Alex Penelas sent the royal family a letter of apology about what he called a "lamentable situation.''

"The facts I have received thus far indicate an apparent disregard for protocol and disrespect of His Highness and his delegation. ... I have called upon our County Manager to conduct a complete investigation into this matter,'' he wrote Thursday.

As far as I can see, the only breach of protocol was committed by the prince, who evidently thinks of the US as some colonial outpost where the local peasants should bow him through security with appropriate forelock-tugging and a touch of groveling. Nice to see the mayor accomodating him.

A Spanish consular official in Miami, who refused to give his name to the paper, said it would be Consul General Javier Vallaure's decision whether to file a complaint.

"We don't consider this the proper way to treat our future king,'' the official said. ``It's a breach of protocol.''

Know what? if your future king wants to travel through the US, it behooves him to follow our protocol, which, apparently, requires a 3-day notice or at least a security escort. We're in the middle of a war your country is in the process of pussying out of and we have security issues with foreigners, so just shut your freakin' cakehole and follow instructions. Otherwise your prince can just get in line with the other shlubs and have the security people pawing through his undies. Fuck'm.

Bitch, please.

Deeply religious superstar Madonna

There are many words that would play better as a modifier there than "religious". Psychotic is one.

will play no Friday night gigs on her upcoming world tour - because the teaching of the Kabbalah forbids it.

How much longer is she going to pretend she's serious about this? She's done some half-assed reading and decided this belief system will make a nice accessory, like when she used to wear a crucifix (how's that for blasphemy?)

The "Holiday" hitmaker has pledged to respect the Jewish practice of Shabbat, the religion's sabbath, by dining with her close family every Friday rather than working. And Madonna, who is married to British filmmaker Guy Ritchie, hopes her move with convince the world she is very serious about the mystical teachings of the Kabbalah. A source says, "This shows just how much Madonna is influenced by Kabbalah. She is completely focused on following her beliefs no matter what lengths she has to go to."

"Until it becomes inconvenient, of course, at which point she will abandon this set of deeply-held beliefs like all the others."

Besides, why should I respect her committment to her religious beliefs when she blithely-even deliberately-tramples on the beliefs of others?

You are David Brooks! You're exceedingly smart, but
your writing is as compelling as wallpaper. You
are a thoughtful though hard-line conservative,
but lack any of Safire's verbal pyrotechnics.
In addition, you dress like you're colorblind.
Fall down, juvenile.


Which New York Times Op-Ed Columnist Are You?
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I'd argue if I could. Via Plastic Gangster.

According to the "Which Big Lebowski character are you?" quiz:

Why don't you check it out? Or we cut off your Johnson!

I'm not, really. I just have trouble relating to people sometimes.

[Via Ryne McClaren.]

Memo to Jimmy Carter.

Shut your hole and know your role, you embarrassing relic from a thankfully dead age of American malaise and impotence.

"President Bush's war was ill-advised and unnecessary and based on erroneous statements, and has turned out to be a tragedy," Carter said. "And my prayer has been that brave young American men and women, and others who are there, that their lives will be spared and there will be some peaceful resolution of the war."

My prayer is that we actually win the damn war and they can come home knowing they changed the world. The only way this war becomes a tragedy is if you have your way and we cut and run like a scalded dog.

Carter, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2002,

Hardly the first or only time that particular award has been so hilariously misdirected.

also blamed what he called Bush's pro-Israel policies for engendering animosity against America.

"The prime source of animosity towards the United States is the lack of progress in dealing with the Palestinian issue," Carter said, adding that past U.S. administrations since Harry Truman's have maintained a "balanced position" in dealing with the rights of the Arab population within the Jewish nation.

So...if you're right (and you're not) that anger over our "balanced position" on the Palestinian cause culminated in the fiery death of about 3,000 Americans, who in their right mind would advocate unbalancing our position in favor of the side that did the killing? Ludicrous. Moot, of course, since the rest of the Arabs don't give two shits about the Palestinians except for their utility as wedge between the US and Israel. And if this country ever abandons Israel, God help us.

[Link via Allahpundit.]

Today's dose of Schadenfreude.

In the immortal words of Nelson Muntz, "HAha."

Trojan Horse Attacks Mac OS X:

Until now, Mac users have prided themselves [Have they ever. -ed] on running a system that has been largely virus-free. Few Mac OS X users run antivirus software, or are wary of double-clicking files they've downloaded or received in e-mail.

And why is that? Is it because the wicked cool Apple OS is so special, so unique, it's virtually virus-proof? Er...no, actually.

Security consultant and virus expert Ken Vanwyk, said there was nothing special protecting Mac OS X, or Linux for that matter, from malicious code.

"They're all susceptible to viruses and Trojans, just as Windows is," he said. "They just haven’t been targeted yet."

Vanwyk cautioned OS X users not to open e-mail attachments unless they were expecting them.

"If OS X users are being careful, I don’t see they should be rushing out to buy antivirus software," he said. "But if it goes the way of Windows, anti-virus product is in their future."

Davis said the Trojan most likely appeared because of Apple's growing influence in digital music.

"Given Apple's previous market share, OS X wasn't a challenge," he said. "As Apple becomes more visible, it's more of an attractive target."

I just thought about Lileks and smiled sadistically. I don't particularly want him hit with a virus, of course, but his occasional Odes to Apple make me grind my teeth.

[Thanks to Angela for the link and the shared glee.]

Notes from half a game.

Went to the Dayton Dragons opener last night and they lost like Mets (11-3). I mention this only to report that as I was walking past Brixx bar on my way to the game they were playing "Loser" by Beck on the patio outside. I'm sensing a lack of love for the team, but it could have been coincidence.

Anyway, I left after the 4th because I'm a dumbass and didn't take a jacket, and got home to discover the Mets also losing like Mets (10-8), didn't check the details, then this morning I find out Erickson wasn't pitching because he strained a hammy during the warmup.

Ahem.

Strained his hammy during the warmup. Is this some kind of karmic payback for something? Did Nelly Doubleday lay a curse on the guys when he sold out, or is it something more sinister? Maybe something connected to Kevin Mitchell cutting the head off his girlfriend's cat? Continuing to monitor the situation.

The Alamo opens this weekend.

Despite, or maybe because of, the generally bad reviews, If I can convince Angela to see it I might go (she's a transplanted Texan and therefore the control subject by which I will set the bullshit meter), but I must point out there has never--and I mean never--been a good movie made about the Alamo. It's a cursed property. The advance word on this one is particularly bad; months ago when they were running it for test audiences I heard disturbing rumors of Davie Crockett all but wetting himself during the battle. Call me a rube, but I prefer my heroes steely eyed and devil-may-care, and I don't care to see the King of the Wild Frontier gibbering in the corner with fear.

Excellent snark:

No one here gets out alive, not the director, not the screenwriters (a phone book's worth), not the cast, and not the audience, who, a few dollars lighter and a few hours closer to death, get a chance to glimpse their own mortality reflected in the dead, shark-eyed glare of the bankruptcy of another big-budget prestige picture.

That's just good writin'.

Because they can't.



Sometimes I have to wonder just what kind of dimwits are running the show in Iraq. If our troops can't fly Old Glory, they might as well be wearing baby blue helmets.

You are a GRAMMAR GOD!


If your mission in life is not already to
preserve the English tongue, it should be.
Congratulations and thank you!


How grammatically sound are you?
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That was satisfying.

The world goes on turning in my absence.

For those who might be wondering where the hell I was last week (and there can't be many of you), I spent the entire week riding around in a Big Truck with my older brother, getting filthy grimy (2 showers in six days--I repulsed myself by Thursday and was near-hysterical in my demands that we halt and ablute ourselves at a truckstop), eating terribly (road food report: Snyder's makes a mustard and Vidalia potato chip, as well as like-flavored Funyun type snack rings. Found the chips at a diner outside Pittsburgh and the rings at a Truckstop on I-74 in Indiana. Also, the Hostess apple spice cupcakes have a harsh chemical overtone that coffee really brings out, unlike the orange cupcakes.), and not sleeping. We had a near-miss on a delivery that stressed me out so much I think I induced Sean to have an anxiety attack, causing his left hand to go numb. (We made it with 3 minutes--THREE--to spare.) I learned that big trucks have three enormous batteries, that it's sort of hit-or-miss cranking the engine when you only have two, what a battery smells like when the posts burn off, that a forklift *can* move a truck loaded with 40-someodd tons of steel enough to push start it, that it's possible to restart the engine by popping the clutch on a truck rolling uphill if you have enough momentum, and that hooking one of the batteries up backwards is a Very Bad Thing.

But it was fun. Steel mills are interesting, and trucking is a weird profession. I'd been out on a truck before with Michelle, but she was what Sean refers to as a "lazy drop-and-hook bastard" (meaning she doesn't drive a covered wagon or a flatbed and doesn't have muscles like a stevedore.) Anyway, I'm back, so further posting delays are due to indolence rather than absence.

Ride your pony.

How to dance properly.

[via Ace of Spades.]

The joke that writes itself.

Via Jonah Goldberg in The Corner: Fitness icon Richard Simmons cited for slapping man

Simmons, 55, known for his tank tops and outrageous manner, was ticketed for misdemeanor assault after allegedly striking the man across the face while in line at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport on Wednesday night, police said.
''He apparently said 'Hey everybody, it's Richard Simmons, let's drop our bags and rock to the '50s,''' said Sgt. Lauri Williams, a reference to a series of his well-known videos. ''Mr. Simmons took offense and said he had to 'bitch slap' him.''

Blessed are the cheesemakers.

This is the good part: There's going to be a limited re-release of Life of Brian (LA, NY, check local listings.)

This is the ass part:

Rainbow president Henry Jaglom says, "We decided this is an important time to re-release this film, to provide some counter-programming to The Passion."

"Important"? "Counter-programming"? Handy rule of thumb: when you become more pompous than the people you're trying to spoof, you have jumped the shark.

Babylon's a-fallin' to rise no more.



Compelled by one of the best reviews of anything I've ever read, by Matt Labash in the Weekly Standard, I just bought the most extraordinary cd box set I've ever heard, Goodbye, Babylon, a six-disc set of early 20th century gospel that runs the musical gamut, as Labash notes, of "everything from Sacred Harp singing to hillbilly romps to field-holler prison chants to front-porch blues to jubilee quartets to old-timey country to Sanctified-congregational singing to Pentecostal rave-ups." The sixth disc is devoted entirely to sermons, mostly from the twenties. (Sure, I got a few odd looks when I pulled up to the gas pump with a sermon about the Black Diamond Train and its passenger manifest of liars, gamblers, and thieves blaring from my car speakers. I maintain this is not only no worse than blasting Eminem so my neighbors can hear it, it's infinitely better.)

The review is amusing, maybe slightly more so for those of us raised as Southern Baptists, but the music is divine. If you have any interest in gospel or old time music, it's well worth acquiring.

Well, this is kinda pleasant, actually.


You are Walt Whitman! Champion of the
Transcendentalist American Ideal, Walt Whitman
is one of the first poets to use the "free
verse" form in America. He has been
imitated, but will never be duplicated, just
like you! Except for by everyone else who gets
Walt Whitman ;)


Which famous poet are you? (pictures and many outcomes)
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Cool. I dig Whitman.

[Via Rodya.]

Wanton hubris.

That's what Patrick Stewart's got, assaying one of Peter O'Toole's seminal roles in Showtime's ill-advised remake of "The Lion In Winter". The project has disaster written all over it; Stewart and Glenn Close are about as subtle as a matched pair of sledgehammers, and I suspect it's going to resemble a Master Thespian skit more than a serious attempt to invoke Goldman's vision of a Plantagenet family Christmas.

[Via Dean Esmay, via a heads up from Bernadine.]

The re-Reconquista

Victor Davis Hanson analyzes the Spanish elections.

Anything I could add would be de trop.