Friday, November 20, 2009

You could have just asked

I just thought I'd share my befuddle.

They had to kill people to get this? Not just rob graves, but kill people? They couldn't find volunteers? Cause this one could help you out. Nice sized tummy pooch. No waiting.

If true, then . . . what?

I don't think I've ever understood the Shroud of Turin thing. Granted, I was raised in a church that doesn't go in for much beyond Communion and baptism, as far as the whole rites and rituals thing. So I don't have much background here. But the relics are just kind of beyond my capacity.

I really don't have an opinion on whether it's real or not. I think, given how many pieces of the True Cross and saints knuckles are floating around out there, there's a good chance it's a fake. But maybe not. Stranger things. And if people want to believe, that's their business.

But I'm not sure why, if you do believe, it's something you'd want to keep around. Let alone touch. It's basically Jesus' BandAid. Like, with blood stains, and everything. Personally, when a bandage is on my finger, it's fine. But once it comes off, I never want to touch it again. You know like when one falls off in the shower, and you just stare at it because you don't want to pick the nasty thing back up. On your body - fine. The second it's off? Now it's hazardous waste.

And I kind of think Jesus would think the same thing. Like if he were to show up in Turin, for like a ski trip or something. "Hey, look what we've got!" "Oh. You kept that? Really? . . . Wow." It's not like it would even be a reminder of a good memory. I mean, you know. Dead and all. It's not like it's his favorite sandals or the cup he used to turn water into wine. "You guys! Hey, I can't believe you kept this! Good times. Good times." But the sheet you got wrapped in after being crucified? Not a good souvenir.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Kate Moss says thinks nothing tastes as good as skinny feels

Obviously she's never had my momma's chicken fried steak.

Guess it was too much to hope

So, my niece tells me that even the rap and hip hop kids are wearing the skinny jeans that the emo kids wear.

At last! Something that kills the dropped pants phenomenon. Finally, finally, these kids won't look like imminent threat of a full moon siting. What's it been 15 years?

"Hallelujah. At least now they won't be walking around with their pants hanging half off their butts any more."

She just looks at me and slowly shakes her head.


Fear not, Ewan - I ride to your rescue

The Forbes most overpaid actor list pegs Will Ferrell as number one this year. Well, no duh. But they single out Ewan McGregor as number 2. And that just seems kind of out of whack. And I’m not sure if it’s just that I like Ewan or not. The fact that he’s a nice looking fella who’s willing to get his kit off at the drop of a hat argues in his favor, as far as I’m concerned. But I think there are a few other elements that the Forbes assessment doesn’t take into account.

One is that there is a big difference between the best thing in a bad movie, and the worst thing in a bad movie. We all know that actors will sometimes work for the paycheck. You can take pride in your work. But you can’t eat pride. But once you’re in, you can do your damnedest to make sure that the time you’re on the screen doesn’t suck. Which McGregor frequently does. Where as Will Ferrell appears to be developing an aesthetic of suck. At one point I was thinking his overgrown manchild shtick was kind of interesting and wanted to see where he was taking it. But he’s not actually taking it anywhere. Character development done. I’d caution him that only the French think Jerry Lewis is a genius for doing the very same thing. It gets old.

The other thing that one can do with paychecks is finance your time spent doing no-to-low budget projects that do stretch your creative muscles. And Ewan McGregor has spent years floating back and forth between commercial and creative work. He’s among the actors who have been able to make the “one for me, one for the bank” career work. Will Ferrell on the other hand has really staid pretty exclusively in the commercial sector. Other than that Woody Allen movie and, if you’re really generous, Stranger than Fiction, it’s really been the crassest form of commercialism. Which is fine. Just try to be good at it. Have some pride, man. There can be a lot forgiven if you show that you’re willing to put yourself out there every once in a while.

And then there’s the intersection where these two concepts meet. Rarely is Ewan McGregor the top name in a big budget, paycheck movie. And when those flop, it’s not because he didn’t hold up his end of the workload. Where Will Ferrell has been the star of (and in some cases the creative force behind) several big budget turkeys. And when they go down it is pretty squarely in his dish. When it comes right down to it, Ferrell has become a big goldbrick. He’s the Barry Bonds of Hollywood.

So, I guess what I’m saying is, maybe there’s something that is missing in the analysis on the Forbes list. Sometimes a “by the numbers” look just doesn’t see the whole picture.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Among the changes that I will not be approving

See? See? The regime changes and people think that they can just slip things by you.

As we made our contingency plans for the New World Order Thanksgiving, a "friend" suggested, as we assigned out dessert, that we could just get canned whipped cream. Not Cool Whip. But the aerosol stuff that's real cream. . .

Oh, sure. Then we can put bones through our noses and boil up a missionary for dinner. Maybe paint our bodies with river mud and wear loincloths to the table. No need to be so formal.


There will be whipped cream. Period. We are not savages.

Last Christmas

I kind of get the feeling that I missed something. The stirring in the force. The flash before the boom. I think last year may have been the last of the Christmas Past holidays. Maybe if I'd been paying attention, I'd have put the dots together. My brother already one and a half kids. And my sister was planning parenthood.

But things hadn't quite reached the tipping point. There was still the ability to manage a Christmas that was like Christmas. My Christmas. Where the tree is at Mom & Dad's house. Everybody will make it there some time in the morning, but somebody is late. Somebody is always late. Should we just go ahead and open presents? No. Of course not. Then we're all present (ha!) and accounted for. And the littlest is Santa and hands out gifts. Then a buffet (it's just so hard to pass) lunch. Cake or pie? Yes. Tea's on the sideboard.

But the Thanksgiving plans are already scuttled because of extended family concerns. We've made contingency plans. But, ow ow ow. And Christmas is looking pretty shakey. There are kids and in-laws and travel time to accomodate. The things that are "well, of course, we always do it that way" are just not going to get done.

And it's okay. Things change. Families change. We'll be together when we can. And the "always" things may just have to wait until next time. It really is okay. You sometimes have to poke yourself in the arm and remind yourself that just because it's new doesn't mean it's worse. There can be new traditions.

I just wish I'd known at the time that last year was the last one.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Levi Stress

I don’t know about Ms. Palin’s lovely state of Alaska. But in the great state of Texas, an unsolicited “I’ll pray for him,” in this particular context, would mean “I hope he chokes on his own vomit.” In the kindest way possible. The same way in “bless his heart” means, “poor thing doesn’t have the brains God gave a goose; don’t give him anything sharp to play with.”

TIME: Quotes of the Day