Dear Readers,

I now consider this blog to be my Juvenelia. Have fun perusing the archives, and find me at my new haunt, here.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

The only most funny sketch on last night's SNL

A parody of the quirky characters of Oscar season.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Venredi Soir

Good evening, reader-ville. Hope you all survived the great "mushy Nor'Easter of 2008" and have fun weekend/Oscar night!/3d installment of Colin-as-Darcy plans.

I'm going to see artsy-fartsy hip-hop stars The Roots later, at a storied theatrical venue in my new neighborhood, and starting the night off with takeout and bubble tea. Scrum.

It's been a crappy week--my 3-day weekend was spent with a particularly nasty fluish thing and I've spent a lot of the week just sleeping and walking zombie-like to my few obligations, trying to keep my weakened body together and not doing anything too productive. I've finally been discovering google reader, which is seriously awesome. Here's my "feed". I hope it helps you blogcrastinate!

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Top Ten Reasons P&P '95 Rocks My World

1) Darcy at the window, (getting err, intrigued by eyes that are brightened by the exercise)!
2)Darcy in the bath!
3)Darcy pacing when he wonders why he is thus rejected with so little attempt at civility!
4)Darcy fencing and saying "I must Conquer this"!
5) Darcy's portrait serving as Lizzy's erotic transferral thingamabob!
6)Darcy in the lake!
7)Darcy's lightning-fast clothing-change.
8)Nice Darcy, after he changes clothes, suggesting that he can provide some rod and tackle.
9)Darcy arriving at Mrs. Younge's house in London and forcing the door open.

10) Jennifer Ehle's subtle, accurate, winning and pitch-perfect not Kiera Knightley-esque portrayal of one of the most complex, loveable and enduring heroines in literary history.*

*Actually number one.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Stuff and sundries.

So Rufus Wainwright's Radio City Valentine's Day performance made hearts (and vaginas, I suppose, given the date and the surprising number of females in the audience) very happy. The man is an entertainer par excellence. Between his outlandish costumes (glow in the dark suit! liederhosen! white robe! high heels, stockings, and blazer!) and a few amazing new songs and pyrotechnics, I was thoroughly impressed. Sean Lennon opened, and later the two dueted on across the universe, which was awesome because well, it was Sean, and Yoko was in the audience, and I enjoy Rufus' cover a lot, though not quite so much as Fiona Apple's. Also, this is now the third time I've seen Sean live, which is odd because that whole "thrice" category is usually reserved for my boys Bruce S. and Bob D, but whatever.

Radio city is just such a gorgeous, elegant venue and the audience was just amazingly well dressed--less fancy than original and creative--and that's one of my secretly favorite parts of going to concerts in the city.

On another note entirely, I have a new regular writing gig over at RH reality check writing about--what else?--images of women and reproduction in pop culture. Read my first column if you so desire.

Ciao for now. Happy President's day weekend!

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Valentine's Day

Ah, Valentine's Day. Day to celebrate love of buying expensive shit for women so they'll sleep with you, romance, and uhh, pink stuff? I've always had mixed feelings about the day, which I think is pretty normal. I mean, I have vague repressed memories of doing some collages with hearts and shit all over them in elementary school of, eep, my own volition. And enjoying it.

Once, in college after a romantically tumultuous first two weeks of February, I celebrated V-day with a bottle of red hair dye in my dorm bathroom. Often I went to the Vagina monologues (which are awesome, btw) and spent the next few days prefacing every statement with "My vagina's ____!" And since I've been dating my hetero life-partner Valentines' day has invariably meant one wonderful and tasty thing: takeout.

But this year, we're actually doing something that I think is both festive and ironic. We got free tickets to see Rufus Wainwright put on a divalicious show at Radio City Music Hall, which is the best venue ever, and we're starting the evening with a hasty bite at Burger Heaven, keeping our tradition alive. Would that indie sensations with a retro streak could play V-Day gigs every year! But my guess is next year it will be back to ordering in and watching some kind of 19th century novel onscreen.

On that note, if you're looking for a good Valentine's Day movie, I just re-watched for the umpteenth time ang Lee's Sense and Sensibility, aka S&S95 to the Janeites. It's just such a wonderful film, blasphemies and all, and really, the strength of it is in Kate Winslet and Emma Thompsons' acting. When do we get to see two female actresses turn in side by side virtuoso performances like that? Not too often, really. And Kate's lines are precious: "There is some blue sky. Let us chase it!" "What care I for colds when there is such a man?" "Let me not to the marriage of true minds... Willoughby, Willoughby, Willoughby." "what is love? a fancy, or a feeling? or a Ferrars?"

It's also a wonderfully realistic takedown of capital R-ideas of romance while being in itself a romantic film. I think it's one of my favorite meditations on conceptions of love, because it favors the kind of attachments that really last in life: that's why it was so genius of Ang Lee to thread in Sonnet 116 about "the marriage of true minds." Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds is, like, the whole point of the movie. Edward and Elinor's romance is based on friendship, respect, and yes, the dreaded "esteem" first, and so is Marianne's eventual union with Brandon.

So in conclusion and summary, to quote hip-hop impressario and chamelon Andre 300, from his immortal album "The Love Below"... actually, it feels too obscene to actually quote the words I want to, since I just talked about Jane Austen, but you can hear the song here.

It really grows on you.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008


Thank goodness I got a good chunk of time shuffling through the white powder in my ugly ass granny snowboots that keep me very warm and unfashionable.

Hope you're all staying dry and toasty in the storm that is, alas, turning into a "wintry mix" and then heavy rain tomorrow here in the big apple.

Don't Turn Out The Lights!

Sign's Petition to Save Friday Night Lights!  Keep the Lights On!

Now that the writer's strike is over (yay! solidarity!) a lot of us out in Dillon-panther-loving land have turned our concern towards the preservation of the best show on television, Friday Night Lights. As a non-athlete, non-texan, general nerdy jewess type myself, I can truly attest to the universality of the show. Simply put, it's a well-acted, well-filmed, well-written soap opera that also happens to touch on some of the deepest american themes: class, race, gender, relationships, and that ever elusive dream of stardom. It's just a beautiful, beautiful show, and I tear up at least once an episode because I care so much about these characters. The banter between the coach and his wife Tami, or Matt and Landry, the two misfit best friends, is perfect and hilarious and poignant. Tim Riggins and Smash Williams are twoof the most soulful, amazing young men ever. Julie is the most realistic teenage girl I've ever seen on TV in the post Angela Chase era. Blah blah blah. I love everyone on that freaking show, okay?

So what I'm trying to say is, basically folks, if you care about good art and its preservation, google "save Friday Night Lines" and sign a petition. Or two. And if you don't care--- do you really want another reality game show like "Deal or no Deal" frying up the airwaves?


What Would Riggins Do?  Save Friday Night Lights!

Monday, February 04, 2008

I Regret Miss Austen

So, yeah, I didn't live-blog Ms. Austen Regrets. Partly 'cause it was my birthday and after a mimosa and some very rich food I was in no state to be witty, and partly cause we turned on Citizen Kane, which we netflixed, part of the way through the evening, and partly because my boyfriend bought me the DVDs of the 1995 Sense and Sensibility and Persuasion and the new Northanger Abey and I was so grateful and pleased that I felt subjecting him to a fourth sunday night of austen-blogging shenanigans might be unfair. Of course, he wouldn't have minded had I really wanted to watch it, as he's an Austenite himself.

So the reality of it all is, I just amn't that interested because I am just a bigger fan of Austen's work than her life. It's the opposite of Virginia Woolf, whose life story is fascinating but whose novels are not the kind I care to read more than once or twice. The fact that Austen's life is boring, I think, is more of a testament to her legacy: the woman was a straight genius.

As for the parts of Ms. A Regrets that I did see, I thought they were a sight better than this summer's travesty. I thought that the wit and brilliance that came out of this Ms. Austen were far more accurate than the faux-cleverness of Anne Hathaway's Jane. Maybe because they used more than one or two real Austen snippets. I just didn't happen to find it to be particularly compelling watching. It was too meandering for me. But I am happy that the austenites seem to have at least somewhat embraced it and I shall tune in another day.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

Yo, just finished reading this ill-ass novel

So back when I was a teacher-blogger and hooked in to that groovy scene, I chronicled an exciting event. On the train home from Boston, I sat next to and behind my favorite comedy troupe, The Lonely Island, who were hungover from a Lampoon party and drinking bloody marys and other fun stuff. This was in the heady days immediately after "The Chronic of Narnia" went totally viral.

But anyway, these guys also wrote "The Heist"--the song which is my blogger profile audio and whose lyrics are seen proudly displayed on my sidebar.

Anyway, my music-writer honey and I were at Joanna Newsom's BAM concert the other night, and I swear to you people, our seat were right behind these goofy dudes' AGAIN! It was awesomely coincidental. What the hell kinda chances are those?

Surely the patron saints of this blog are smiling.