Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Elementary, my dear Watson
Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law had to flee the set [of Sherlock Holmes] when a gas tanker exploded in a fireball. Then, Downey Jr. was knocked unconscious by 350-pound stuntman who accidentally punched him during a fight scene. The actor was “out cold” for six seconds and “drooling blood” before medics could bring him around.
It's funny, but can't you just picture RDJr getting knocked out by a stuntman? Then he'd stagger back to his feet with a brrrr of the lips and a sarcastic double entendre.
This American Life
The Showtime version of the This American Life radio show is unusually macabre. Yes, you will see the cracked-out wife of a bloated former guitarist in a cemetery weep over an album of old photos. Yes, you will see a plastic tube of boar jizz plunged into a pig's vagina during a round of meat-factory insemination. Yes, you will see a stubborn farmer gored repeatedly in the loins by his cloned pet bull.
You will even be slightly offended by Ira Glass's glasses.
All in all, you'll see that This American Life has a face for radio.
You will even be slightly offended by Ira Glass's glasses.
All in all, you'll see that This American Life has a face for radio.
Happy Anniversary to me
As one of my coworkers pointed out, today is my five-year anniversary at work.
Well, five years minus the perks-negating 8-month sabbatical I spent quivering unemployed in the putrid bowels of Providence, Rhode Island.
Five years in spirit!
Well, five years minus the perks-negating 8-month sabbatical I spent quivering unemployed in the putrid bowels of Providence, Rhode Island.
Five years in spirit!
Slave to decorum
From a review of a biography of old-school etiquette guru Emily Post:
I read that review weeks ago and the image of the woman eating alone at a big table stuck with me as particularly sad. Certainly she would've enjoyed herself more if she'd flipped convention the bird and invited her maid to the table. Sometimes I'm too much of a slave to decorum too. For example, I feel guilty staying in bed past a certain hour on the weekend, even if there's no one home and I have nothing to do.
Then again, I did marry a dude, so I guess it balances out.
The flawless performance of roles is a pretty good definition of etiquette. Mrs. Post said over and over that "character" mattered far more than "trivialities of deportment" when it came to correct manners. Yet she kept faith with traditional social hierarchies... She was so companionable with her maid, for instance, that they used to go to the movies together, arm in arm, then out for ice cream. But at dinnertime, Hilda ate in the servants' quarters, and Mrs. Post sat at the dining table alone.
I read that review weeks ago and the image of the woman eating alone at a big table stuck with me as particularly sad. Certainly she would've enjoyed herself more if she'd flipped convention the bird and invited her maid to the table. Sometimes I'm too much of a slave to decorum too. For example, I feel guilty staying in bed past a certain hour on the weekend, even if there's no one home and I have nothing to do.
Then again, I did marry a dude, so I guess it balances out.
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