Post title: Dorothy Parker (and if you sense that I’m planning a questionable role models post at this point, you’d be correct). Feature image is Huey expressing what runs through your mind every time you read a post here.
Mixtapes still seem like a valid means of emotion expression to me. This could possibly mean that I’m cool and retro. It could also mean that I have yet to grow up. Opinions really not welcome here.
I am definitely more mature than I was, say, two weeks ago. And you would be completely willing to be seen with me in public, right? RIGHT?
High Fidelity, which I haven’t seen in a very long time, popped into my head last week, so that’s probably how I arrived at mixtapes. Just to see what came up (since “tape” more or less means “something digital” now), I googled it. People, whatever you’re doing, you’re doing wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. There are some serious rules here (this one may be my favorite: are you following all 15 rules?; this one made me tired). Please return to Mixtapes 101.
It’s been a very loud weekend around here. Somehow, among various apartments, I’ve never had a particularly loud neighbor: mildly irritating, maybe, but never actually grit-your-teeth bad. And lo, here he is.
There were limitless Darlene possibilities here. I hope this one conveys the appropriate “this land is your land, this land is my land” feeling I’m having right now.
Many people would deal with this in a healthy, reasonable, adult manner, but, of course, this is me. I chose the much more obvious route: Spotify. (Foucault was already taken.)
And yes, my train of thought/logic has long since derailed, and no, you’re not the first to point that out.
Mixtape Vol. 1 is loud music, to be aimed at the ceiling. Needless to say, if you know Spotify, all the selections I originally planned are not included, due to unavailability (I would specifically note the lack of Bikini Kill). I have tried many of these, including “Du Hast,” which you would certainly think would send a message: nope. Only one has been effective, in fact, and that was “Free Bird,” and that was without me singing or doing the thing where you also vocalize the guitar solos (just me? never mind).
So I’m providing this for your use, in case there’s anyone in your life you need to send a message to. Or mute. Or deafen. Or subtly suggest you don’t like.
Further evidence of my maturity, as if you needed more.
Oh, and the “Birth Control” track is on there as a PSA to the multitude of females that were involved in the ongoing maelstrom of noise. Somebody’s gotta look out for them.
If noise doesn’t work, there is another route, popular among the toddler set (and honorary toddlers: me): if you can’t kill ’em, annoy ’em. If you still have your childhood Wee Sing tapes, this would be easy, but, as I recall, mine “disappeared.” So I’ve done the only sensible thing and assembled another playlist of songs that have real earworm potential.
Please note that inclusion on this list does not imply that I dislike the song. I pulled most of these suggestions directly from my own music library. The only criteria here was that the song has a good chance of staying with you for at least 8 hours, until you’re lying in a dark, silent room, curled in a fetal position and sobbing. Which, you know, is a pretty quiet thing to do.
Well, now wasn’t that cathartic (for me)! “These fragments I have shored against my ruins,” as it were (I think I just got a cosmic red card for gross Eliot misuse). In the meantime, I’ll continue to imagine what must be going on upstairs . . .
Final thought: “I never said, ‘I want to be alone.’ I only said ‘I want to be let alone!’ There is all the difference.” –Greta Garbo
(post title credit: Talullah Bankhead again; main post image, no reason other than love for The Muppet Show)
First Things First: Progress, Ho!
If you read the Outpost, you’ll see in the comment to the latest post that there’s a promised post forthcoming. Believe it or not, it’s in the works: there’s an actual (incomplete) draft. Progress slowed down a bit when I did something highly mysterious that led to shutting down every window and program on my computer, thus losing all the resources I had gathered (they also somehow vanished from my browser history). Whatever I did there, don’t do that.
I’m bouncing two additional ideas around for shorter posts (Outpost again). Not sure if they’ll pan out.
Notice Anything Different?
Yeah, thought not.
I’m working on adding links (right sidebar), which has been on my to-do for this blog since day one. I started last night and will continue to add sporadically. Last night, as you can see currently, was mostly humor stuff (which, somehow, devolved into being mainly webcomics– I’m not entirely sure what happened there). For the record, this is stuff I do actually read, though obviously, I don’t visit them all every last day.
Words with . . . Families? An Actual Sort-Of Personal Story
I think it’s at least fairly common that immediate families have a few (sometimes a lot) of made-up words or codewords unique to them. From what I’ve seen and heard, these tend to involve words with sexual connotations or that relate to bodily functions. I did Google it, and some families get a little more creative: see here and here for short lists of examples (reader-submitted). [1]
I’m not sure these technically qualify as neologisms (“bae,” etc.), since they never enter the popular vernacular. Someone else would have to clarify that; I’m really not clear on that one. [2]
What’s I’m coming around to is one my family uses. Something to know first is that, if you dropped all four of us in a bookstore, we separate to such far extremes that reuniting is a monumental task; our tastes vary in the extreme. We all agree, though, that My Life and Hard Times (James Thurber) is a singularly hilarious book. [3]
In the chapter “Other Alarms at Night,” Thurber lies awake all night, trying in vain to come up with the name of the New Jersey town Perth Amboy. In the dead of night, he wakes up his (already-nervous) father and demands, without explanation, that he begin naming towns in New Jersey, getting more and more insistent– and leading his father to believe he’s lost his mind.
When someone in my family has a nagging, insistent, can’t-remember-something-trivial problem that is actively bothering them, this is a Perth Amboy situation. It’s also a Perth Amboy situation when the answer springs to your mind at 3 AM, when you’ve invariably been lying awake to that point trying to pinpoint whatever meaningless thing won’t leave you alone.
This happened last night, after I’d gone to bed. I have no idea on this earth how Don Johnson appeared in my mind, but there he was. I thought of Miami Vice. . . but what was that TV show he was on in the 90s? Cop? PI? Yellow car. Right. Yellow car. Barracuda. [4] The end result was a nocturnal visit to imdb: Nash Bridges. (here is the Wikipedia summary— I chose it because it shows how like, totally, seriously deep a show it was) But: Perth Amboy!
In Conclusion
No, I haven’t seen 50 Shades. I started the first book (at the library) but quickly delivered a hard “no” to all involved. [5] With all the cumulative press dating from the publication of the books to the movie’s release, it’s not at all hard to have a pretty concrete idea of the finer plot details, though. So I present you with my two favorite articles thus far: a review of the movie plus a soundtrack review. (these are funny, not analytical/deep– you’re thinking of the auxiliary blog)
Thurber was also pretty famous for his bizarre cartoons (they illustrated his books and often appeared in the New Yorker). You often have to project your own narrative onto them to some extent to interpret them; it’s hard to explain. You’ll probably notice that he has a distinctive drawing style; he lost sight in one eye (result of an accident) as a child and rapidly began to lose all sight as an adult. There’s only one dog here, but his dog drawings may be the things that are most famous now (the dog shown here is from My Life and Hard Times). If you want to see more, there are many more images available via Google image search.
[1] As with pretty much anything, there’s more out there. The two links I’ve chosen are not euphemism-type lists; they’re more the out-in-left-field variety.
[3] My favorite from the volume, “The Night the Bed Fell,” is in the New Yorker archive (1933) here. If reading Project Gutenberg doesn’t make you cross-eyed, the whole book is here.
[4] Entirely typical for every single detail but the vehicle involved to evade me. Someday, my children, I’ll gather you ’round me and tell you my El Camino theory (TM).
[5] I read the first Twilight while hospitalized; I had access to all three of those and Trainspotting. I read Trainspotting, then Twilight. I considered the second volume of Twilight, then read Trainspotting twice more while waiting for further reading material. Reading that book three times in less than a week is . . . interesting.
[6] Not my usual reading material. Caitlin Moran (formerly a music journalist) tweeted the link.
This was written ahead of time, but it’s scheduled to appear at 8 AM on Valentine’s Day. For sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows everywhere . . . might want to look elsewhere. I don’t have a filter, remember?
I do, however, have an Alice.
Not sure when this was taken– many years ago, anyway. Alice looks thrilled, doesn’t she?
(post title credit: Talluah Bankhead. Feature image credit: bathroom graffiti from random gas station)
Quite obviously, this is the obligatory Valentine’s Day post. I’m making a valiant attempt to find something for everyone– unless you’re looking for something traditionally appropriate or gushingly romantic. I kinda neglected that bit; I suggest Hallmark. For no real reason, I’ve been accumulating Valentine’s Day images on my computer for awhile now (my image library is a scary place): then this blog erupted, and there was suddenly a purpose for them. I found some more, and that brings us to this image-based post.
I’ve tried to sort images by category, but of course that’s a little arbitrary. The themes, too, are arbitrary; it’s mostly stuff I thought was funny. At any rate, whether you have a Valentine, are anti-Valentine, love the bizarre, or into Galantine’s, you should find something to save and print out at the last minute (my M.O. of preference), pin to Pinterest for when the right one comes along, or use to line your hamster cage. You do you. [1]
To conclude the intro, my favorite quotation for February 14th; it’s not really about romantic love, hearts, flowers; it’s just . . . well, here: “. . .the sun would leave my sky if I couldn’t assume you’d simply come and tell me you were sad.”
― David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest[2]
A note on image sources: in an ideal world, I’d be citing where I found these images. For the most part, I was never keeping track of that, particularly since many of these images were downloaded at wildly different times, and I never intended to put them on a public post. A few state the source with a logo (or something). Some are Etsy cards; those are obvious because of the pictures. Many came from various Tumblrs, some from blogs. Some are from articles (in those cases, the article may have been a compilation, so the article itself may not be the original source). Some are memes that came from who-knows-where. Etc.
VALENTINES: THIS IS AS CLOSE TO HALLMARK AS IT’S GONNA GET
So why not start with Billy Ray Cyrus?
And now “Achy Breaky Heart” will be in your head for the rest of the day. You are very, very welcome! [3]
If anyone has ever seen we have a WiFi-goes-down related psychotic break . . . Pro tip: In any new location where you will be spending significant time, A) attempt to beg, steal, or borrow Wifi code, and B) as a backup, try to find an accessible unsecured WiFi connection as a backup.
Super answer. From Ask Mr. Murakami. No longer taking questions, and the website that shows how to use the question submission form (English-to-Japanese) has been taken down. Because it existed, though, some of the questions/answers are in English and are all worth reading.
Dykes to Watch Out For, one of the later ones (not sure which specific collection, but it’s in the collected edition). A lovely proposal.
A truly romantic sentiment. Plus, it rhymes, so it’s like Elizabeth Barrett Browning or something, right? (also, it’s sort of non-gendered, which is cool)
If you want any, any version you can envision, of a “Kanye likes/loves Kanye” Valentine, head over to Google. It must be the year’s most popular Valentine.
For people who are in love to a degree that transcends human understanding. Or at least my understanding.
But is a relationship complete without Netflix? [4]
Aw, gee. ::blushes::
Eh, no one says this to me. Ever. So I’ll assume everyone ELSE’S music sucks. That seems reasonable . . .
For those who really just want something traditional.
Naps. Mmm.
This isn’t terrifically clear. It’s Hannah Montana Valentines– which they are apparently still making. (?) I would classify these as appropriate for fans of retro or those made nervous by Miley’s current incarnation (i.e., my father). [5]
Compromise: reality and romanticism. [6]
I’m a complicated person. Not really. If you can fit it on the front of a greeting card: no, not really.
Yeah, this is a major bonus.
Billions and billions and . . . whoa, man, BILLIONS!
I just hover inches above your face with the pillow and . . . consider things. Like jail time. Autopsy results. How this usually plays out on Law & Order.
And the bad pun award . . .
No, I was at no point searching for Ellen Valentines. But seriously. 12 Days of Giveaways. Bucket list.
But it may still have to sleep between us, Waltons-style. Everybody say, “Goodnight, Marvin.” (Your phone doesn’t have a name? Weird.) [7] [8]
Read: You are one sick, sick freak. And I like that. On the plus side, you evidently like small animals. Want my number?
“My father warned me about men and booze, but he never mentioned a word about women and cocaine.” ― Tallulah Bankhead, Tallulah: My Autobiography [user poll: should there be a Questionable Role Models series? Because there seem to be a lot appearing here.]
Friends, friends with benefits, [choose your terminology], don’t let [terminology] binge-watch TV alone. In the rain. [9]
Also see: the kind of love that only exists in rom-coms featuring Julia Roberts.
Actually, I can just give you one of the tapes that are still cluttering shoeboxes at my parents’. Unless you prefer Tayler Swift’s 1989 to actual 1989. [10]
LET’S BE FRIENDS!
Consider this an open invitation. >And if you’re really into it, please see subscribe to blog (subscribe to blog via WP or email) at right.
Friends, casual sex, awkward coffee “dates,” whatever. I didn’t actually know where to put this one, so it’s here. Swipe left or right depending on whether or not you agree with this placement.
I HEREBY DEDICATE THIS ONE TO EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN MY LIFE.
Keep telling yourself that. (that’s what I do)
On my grumpiness scale. Patent pending.
DUH, the “friends” section contains the Golden Girls.
I find this one kind of touching . . . [11]
AKWARD AND ILL-DEFINED RELATIONSHIPS [#]
. . . but now that I mention it, some others do come to mind. (when you and your loved one need to process/start couples’ therapy/go on Jerry– I personally advocate the last, and please throw chairs)
The longer, more mumble-y, more confused a speech you deliver– the more heartfelt it probably actually is.
#true
When you just want to come out and say it. Being blunt is good, right? (ha)
Next from Hallmark: Valentines for Rebounds!
When the “naughty cards” section at the drugstore won’t cut it because of your “special” requirements. And if this one does apply to you, please write some erotica relating to your life, publish it online, and send me a link. Thanks!
Eye contact is for wimps. We can always FaceTime.
If you have a top-secret relationship.
If you need to define the terms of your relationship. [#12]
Actual Craigslist ad from this area (slightly edited to remove anything potentially identifying): “Looking for a Polygamist partner – mw4w (—) mw4w If you don’t know what polygamy is, please research it before you respond. We are a — couple in their —- that live in the —- and would like to find a — woman to share our life and become part of our family. WE ARE NOT BI !!!!!!! and not into 3somes!!!!! Just not our thing. We are 2 happy people that’s been together for — years and that lived this lifestyle before and really loved it. Some of the happiest times in our lives. We don’t judge others and is honest, loyal and respectful folk that enjoy helping others. We believe in give and you will receive. This is for the long term and we would like to find someone between — and — who don’t have kids at home anymore but this is not a deal breaker. We like going on trips and explore and see new places. ——- You must be prepared to relocate and join our household.” So you can always try Craigslist! (note that I skipped the first three ads in the misc romance section because I was so offended by their content there was no way I was reposting them)
“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” ― Mark Twain– but NO PRESSURE
Top definition from Urban Dictionary: “Hooking up with someone for one night of sex with no strings attached and hoping to never see them again. It is important not to exchange any personal info with them so they can’t track you down and stalk you later.” (I like how the author of this definition– “hidollarho,” and no, I didn’t make that up– is a bit of a Dear Abby, what with the advice and all)
Or, let me reiterate, fight on Springer. With chairs. [13]
This seems to be a legitimate use of the Facebook relationship status “it’s complicated.” [14]
I was torn between putting this one here or with the “really” romantic ones. You can guess where I think it belongs, but I went with majority opinion.
PHILOSOPHY LOVES YOU, AND YOU SHOULD LOVE PHILOSOPHY
Yeah, this is a really long one. Looks like I have raided multiple sites on multiple occasions. Just can’t help myself. And yes, you’re permitted to scroll down. [#]
I put Alice through the Mirror Stage when she was a kitten. More than one person– independently– has noted that this was child abuse. [15]
Is it just me, or is Žižek everywhere these days? He’s clogging my Twitter feed, no kidding. Tweets about him, that is.
My personal ad would specify “no analytics.” FYI. [16]
“Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.”
Annoying male keep asking for your phone number, won’t take no? Give this number: 669-221-6251. Toll free, will auto-generate an appropriate response via recorded message or text. BOTP. [17]
I’m not crying. I just have something in my eye.
Note: these next ones are actually cited as coming from benkling.tumblr.com. I think there’s also a blog.
Opportunities for Kant puns are endless. The Hedwig movie (not in actual play) has a particular favorite: “I had just been dismissed from University after delivering a brilliant lecture on the aggressive influence of German philosophy on rock ‘n’ roll entitled ‘You, Kant, Always Get What You Want.'” [18]
This one might send a confused message. Use with caution, depending on what you relationship goals are.
What is this, the third Kierkegaard one? I like him and all, but that’s not really reflective of my actual all-time favorites or anything. Regardless: very funny.
I have a theory about who I would get this one from: any time I tweet anything even remotely related to philosophy (e.g., actual philosopher-based content ranging to meditating on chipped nail polish), the same Socrates quote bot follows me (and unfollows a day later, probably because I never follow back– do I really want Platonic tweets on a daily basis?). My personal Twitter stalker. [20]
Sometimes, yes, just a cigar. In this case: nope.
Simone, you little minx! “I was made for another planet altogether. I mistook the way.” ― Simone de Beauvoir (unrelated, just one of my favorites– not just of hers; in general)
Slow clap for Nietzsche.
I don’t really believe the people who argue that cogito is nonsyllogistic. Therefore, I offer this particular card for you to mock freely.
FEMINIST CARDS + GALENTINES DAY
Not really an appropriate mash-up, but I got lazy.
Now that I look at it, is this a birthday card? No idea. Do what thou wilt. [21]
You can’t go wrong with a poem. [22]
I didn’t have enough for an art category, either, so here’s Frida. I just couldn’t leave her out.
I’ve been meaning to paint my nails. Will carefully paint them in *exactly* this manner. [23]
But if you wrote a treatise, that would be pretty cool.
According to Lorde’s definition of revolution: “Revolution is not a one time event.” According to mine: that’s correct, because not only will it be tweeted, it will be retweeted.
Somewhat outdated dialectic, but I can still dig that.
TV, MOVIES, MUSIC: MIX ‘N’ MATCH MEDIA SECTION
If you can find it on your favorite tech device, it’s here.
I will find pie and throw it. For you. [25]
Clearly, we are cycling through Netflix binge-watching inspired cards. For many of us, that’s deeply meaningful. (also, this image looks blurry to me– it says “the devil won’t be the only thing inside u”– AHS, season 2)
I read a Shane joke: Alice shows Shane how to use Tinder. Shane asks: “Why would I ever swipe left?” Here all week. [26]
What insane font is that? Ban it. It’s illegible on my screen. It says: “I love you more than I love Kate McKinnon’s Justin Bieber impersonation.” Which kind of gave me nightmares. [27]
That font again. “What’s new, Poussey Cat?” More pun points.
Someone needs to have a Come to Jesus with whoever created this series. Wingdings might actually be better: “Without you I’d be Lost, Girl.” Lost Girl: discuss. [28]
“Your love is like a drug I’ve smuggled.”
“Test results show: you’re my Valentine.” Okay, so this one isn’t Netflix because Netflix needs to GET ITS ACT TOGETHER. But the first season is free on Amazon Prime. (oh, maybe I should say: this is Orphan Black)
Movie section? Book section? Feminism section? How about “let’s define rape” section?
It was not intentional to follow the rape one with Woody Allen. At any rate, I watch his movies while carefully pretending I know nothing biographical about him. Did I mention how much I love Annie Hall? In the previous post? Oh. Well, I do.
A truly great movie line.
A truly correct movie line.
When in doubt . . . the Oracle.
Eeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwww — and I’m not talking about handcuffs per se.
Another classic romantic science fiction double feature. [29]
Back to Netflix binging.
There’s a whole group on this website . . . you know what? Never mind. [30]
Twin Peaks love.
I have already been told that nobody wants to see this. I listened, as you see. [31]
I’ve never actually seen this show (paging Netflix again), but I’ve heard enough about Sheldon at this point to get the joke.
There was an article in NYT about SNL (since it’s the 40th anniversary). The reporter asked Lorne Michaels what the best season was. He said: “whatever was on when you were in high school.” Both clever and correct.
Okay, if not Jerry, this is an acceptable alternative. If I were to ever have a child, this is 100% the way I’d like to announce it.
Heeeeere’s . . . flowers and candy!
Yes, more Annie Hall. Direct complaints to the management. [32]
Another beautiful love story: Sid and Nancy. See previous re: complaints.
Spreading the Golden Girls around.
More!
Sometimes, something is so wrong that it MUST be right. [33]
*finis*
April Ludgate (role model), Parks and Rec
Andy, Parks and Rec— yes, this and the above represent yet more Netflix.
LITERATURE, TWEETS, AND TEXTS: NOPE, NOT THE SAME AT ALL
But they’re all words. And I’m going with one category instead of three.
Syvia Plath: yet another great source of romantic advice. Also, did you know that– for real– Joyce Carol Oates got into a fight with this Plath account once?
This was on Instagram. I stole it because it was hilarious and also makes me want to listen to “Rehab.”
Woolf only whistles in her own room.
Tweet (@crankyethicist) from earlier today. THIS IS MY NEW THEME SONG. The Office Space/Dawkins and Leiter reply is also a winner. [34]
?????????????????
I’m counting this as Valentine’s Day because the 50 Shades release is timed to coincide with it. And because I am terrifically immature and thus find jokes about rats gnawing on gonads highly amusing.
Inclusion: Same as above. Christian Grey as new Jason is a theory worth considering.
I’m pretending that this poem was written just for me.
Would be better with a picture of Dolly Wilde, but I guess she doesn’t qualify as an author. For further Dolly Wilde-related stuff, read Caitlin Moran’s new novel, How to Build a Girl. No. READ IT.
Ouch. But I hope you don’t have rabies.
You’ve got a smile so bright, you know you could have been a candle / I’m holding you so tight, you know you could have been a handle / The way you swept me off my feet, you know you could have been a broom / The way you smell so sweet, you know you could have been some perfume
Murakami does not approve this message. Also, this is kind of what my personal ad would say I’m seeking: “A certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect.” ― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
“Romantic” with Kafka will just have to be a qualified term: “I can’t think of any greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, endlessly, even though I feel that here in this world there’s no undisturbed place for our love, neither in the village nor anywhere else; and I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.” ― Franz Kafka, The Castle
Uh, Shakespeake’s not my thing. Maybe you’ve noticed the strong 20th century leaning here? I think this is from Othello: “She lov’d me for the dangers I had pass’d, / And I lov’d her that she did pity them.” Also this: “Kill the Moor! Avast! Alack!” (might not want to use this as a citation source)
They called him “Horny Hemingway” (and if they didn’t, they should have). But, um, come to think of it . . . this wouldn’t apply to this novel. [35] But anyway: “Oh Jake,” Brett said, “We could have had such a damned good time together.” Ahead was a mounted policeman in khaki directing traffic. He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly, pressing Brett against me. Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”
Awhile back on Twitter (YES, I spend a lot of time there. Stop judging), teenage girls were posting “sweet” screenshots from their “big brothers”– texts about how they were looking out for their sisters. It was pretty nauseating. As tends to happen, the tag got hijacked. There was a lot of Orwell circulating that day.
For the librarians.
The famous pun. I realized I didn’t actually know its origin, if it had one at all. There’s disagreement, but the person with the first answer (the N-gram one) is pretty convincing.
No one can resist crying Poe.
So I’m going to toss you in the flames of Mordor! True love!
Really just included this one to slam Orson Scott Card.
I am quite fond of zombies and am also immune to them (no brains, so not a target). In looking up the plot to this book for a link [36], I realized it’s almost 10 years old. And I’m old.
This is a patent Annie Hall ripoff. [37] Yes, I know I repeat myself with the Annie Hall stuff. Yes, I know I repeat myself with the Annie Hall stuff.
“There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody’s expense but his own.” ― Herman Melville, Moby-Dick ::toasts Melville::
Captions deleted from next series; they were causing some weird resizing, specifically shrinking the images into unreadable sizes. The thing that you need to know is that the DFW one is my new pick-up line.
Technically should have been in philosophy section, but, rather than fix that, I’m putting him here– hey, he wrote novels! Want to be detached and cool and unattainable in that way that makes you super-desirable? Camus will lead the way.
“Is it hot in here . . . ?” also works.
The people in the Panopticon are watching, too! (Foucault, of course, and etc.– but also Jeni Fagan’s novel, The Panopticon)
He does not seem like a dirty old man.
Well, here’s a good one: You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart.” ― Franz Kafka
“What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love?” ― David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest [38]
The grammar or syntax or something here is messed up.
Extra cleverness points to this one.
Well, technically there’s a lot of sex in “Howl,” but WordPress might ban me or something. And isn’t there a mature content thing you have to check?
Please text me this. I will love you for ever.
This is Orwell . . . ::falls asleep::
Lovecraft. Yeah. That’s all I’ve got.
The only proper response: “;” (here— and even if you get the reference already, that links to a good article)
I don’t know much about his biography– much of what I do know I picked up tangentially via an inexplicable Sybille Bedford kick (I regret nothing).
As she says in her novel: He’ll do press-ups and chin-ups / Do the snatch, clean, and jerk / He thinks dynamic tension / Must be hard work / Such strenuous living / I just don’t understand / When in just seven days / Oh, baby / I can make you a man
“Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.”
As I inadvertently found out, an excellent way to start a Twitter pile-on (YES, you mentioned that) is to say something even borderline negative about Ayn Rand with #AynRand. Objectivists start coming out of the woodwork. [39]
CATS, CATS, CATS: MAYBE THEY LOVE YOU, MAYBE YOU TELL YOURSELF THAT
Uh . . . how BIG a box of kittens? Like, how many?
I don’t really feel these need captions. Myself and the other friends of felines already feel the love here.
ANTI-VALENTINE’S DAY
Apparently there’s an anti-anti-Valentine’s Day movement that has nothing to do with relationship status? Could research further but might opt for nap.
Point of clarification: as-yet unknown sociopaths are ready-steady-go? Only diagnosed ones are off-limits?
Does anyone else think those taste really weird and chalky? Just me? Okay. Never mind. But really– I’ll take a peanut butter heart.
Re vodka, here’s your guide to toasting in Russian (in today’s edition of “The Internet Has Everything”: Твоё здоровье! (your health, informal, a group); Будем здоровы! (to our health, when you’re drinking alone and raise the glass); нашу дружбу! (to friendship); любовь! (to love); посошок! (one for the road). Preface all but the first two and the last with “za.” Now go to Russia.
Wonder if Publix has its specials up yet?
Seems like these are maybe for texting? Not sure.
How do you evenly slice a heart-shaped pizza? This bothers me.
You’re correct; this is a Jeffery Dahmer Valentine. I personally would have put it under the tru luv ones, but, again, majority opinion blah blah. Incidentally, I carried a stick named Jeffery around for a period of time there. I feel that was perfectly normal.
Over the course of these past two posts, I have come to believe that the Internet is 90% Pulp Fiction pictures involving guns.
If you want to be just a tiny, tiny bit self-righteous . . .
As I said: you do you. Also, this is a multi-holiday-purpose card. Use as needed.
RANDOM AND UNCATEGORIZED, BUT HERE THEY ARE ANYWAY
Well, more random than this was already. Which might be 180 to not-random?
Taken by me at a craft store. Not explaining. Not linking.
Actual vintage ad. Pro tits! Tips. I mean tiPs.
On a Saturday this year– but keep this one on file.
This will probably turn out to be a hoax. In the meantime, though, it’s still clever, hoax or not.
I don’t know any DNA songs, but there’s an excellent parody of The Major General’s song about the elements. [40]
Geek, of course, is a compliment.
Say it with love.
. . . you, too?
❤ Ada Lovelace
Should have been an anti-Valentine? But I don’t think it actually is . . .
Reductive.
I didn’t have enough for a STEM category (shocker). So they’re all ending up here. Love to all the STEM peeps anyway.
And, ultimately, NERDS RULE. Everybody date a nerd! Love a nerd! Nerds for everyone! ::throws confetti::[41]
[1] Or whoever you’re doing. Or a goat, if you’ve seen that Albee play.
[2] I’m fully aware of the abundance of Infinite Jest quotations. Deal. And I seriously do love that line.
[3] And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t provide audio?
[4] Share your Netflix password before you merge checking accounts. Like a dry run.
[5] Speaking of, did you see the Miley-tongue-porn thing? (no actual nudity in link, but you probably get the gist here). Some of you have already received this video from me, many of you in the form of video accompanied by a misleading message about its actual content. Have I told you lately I love you?
[6] Negligee?
Pretty sure that’s what they mean by sexy sleepwear, but I’ll look into Victoria’s Secret later. (yes, those are cats on it)
Super-affable in mornings.
Another take on sexy siren from film noir.
[7] I couldn’t find the real Waltons goodnight thing. I did find a parody. Profanity at end.
[8] My phone: Marvin the Paranoid Non-Android. (RIP, Douglas Adams)
[9] See A Farewell to Arms section, Literary Characters post.
[10] Technically, my homemade tape days extend well beyond 1989. You know those tapes you made from the radio? You heard a song you like start and hit record, so you’d have a tape with about 15-20 seconds of the beginning missing from every song? Nostalgia. I’m old.
[11] And while we’re in this era, can Levar Burton read me a Valentine’s story? Thank you. Butterfly in the sky . . .
[12] Danger, Will Robinson! I Googled “dtr” in hopes of finding something funny. DON’T DO THAT.
[13] Contrary to appearances, I am aware that Springer is no longer on. This is wishful thinking. Bring back Jerry! I did not watch this video to the end. Needless to say, content advisory. Duh.
[14] How does Facebook deal with polygamous relationships? Can you set an individual relationship status for each spouse? I suddenly really want to know this.
[15] Given how Alice has turned out (“The Happiest Girl in the USA”), I don’t think this is really a sound argument.
[16] And if I do write a personal, it will be EPIC. EPIC. Also, not to bring up that commitment hearing again, but . . . yeah.
[17] BOTP is a new entry in my vocabulary and apparently a neologism in general; Google will have you believe it’s “Battle of the Planets.” Because of the Patriarchy.
[18] Some additional Hedwig and the Angry Inch thoughts on love:
[someone is singing “I Will Always Love You” in the background]
Tommy: What do you think? Do you think love lasts forever?
Hedwig: No, but this song does.
—
You were so much more / Than any god could ever plan / More than a woman or a man / Now I understand / How much I took from you / That when everything starts breaking down / You take the pieces off the ground / Show this wicked town / Something beautiful and new / You think that luck has left you there / But maybe there’s nothing / Up in the sky but air / And there’s no mystical design / No cosmic lover preassigned [19]
[19] A full video of the original Hedwig off-Broadway production is up (again). It will probably be taken down as soon as a relevant person realizes it’s there. Watch while you can. The movie clips are currently being preceded in the search results by promo stuff for the current production. At any rate:
Sometimes I just listen to that on repeat, when I really, really need to . . .
[20] I have a current Twitter stalker, and I don’t know why he (I guess?) picked me. (. . . ) And I just went over to cut and paste some of the stuff he said, and his account is suspended (I didn’t report him– suppose I wasn’t the only person in his life), so the tweets are gone. The ONE TIME I didn’t capture something super-weird. Figures. He’s said I was giving him the “razzle-dazzle” at one point (it was completely unclear how that related to whatever pointless thing I’d said), asked if he could “pin me” (really wish I had that one– because all I can think of is Silence of the Lambs— Pinterest was the only other thing I could think of re: pinning, but there was no picture involved), and said I made him look up words (apparently referred to The Mikado, but I’m not positive). That’s a sampling.
[21] “Do What Thou Wilt” is carved above a monastery door in Rabelais. I had a high school teacher who quoted it frequently.
[22] I’ve been sending this around since at least January, if not before.
[23] For once, filter activated. It wasn’t anything obscene; I’m just opting out. It would be better for the other blog.
[24] Leave the house? Sometimes I just don’t understand people . . . (typing this from under the bed)
[26] Tweeted by parody account @ModernLWord. If you follow, go back and read tweets from beginning– it’s a storyline (they’re not that many).
[27]
[28] I mean, I watch an episode or two of Lost Girl and think I’m really getting into it, and by three or so, I’m bored and burned out and it seems silly. FEELINGS.
[29] What else?
[30] Second successful use of filter! Because, yeah, that one was completely inappropriate.
[31] Not letting this one get by either. (I already have these things in playlists, so it’s pretty much spreading the wealth. Or whatever.) Super-romantic!!!!!!!
[32] Re: the management
“Archbishop James Usher (1580-1656) published Annales Veteris et Novi Testaments in 1654, which suggested that the Heaven and the Earth were created in 4004 B.C. One of his aides took the calculation further, and was able to announce triumphantly that the Earth was created on Sunday the 21st of October, 4004 B.C., at exactly 9:00 A.M., because God liked to get work done early in the morning while he was feeling fresh.
This too was incorrect. By almost a quarter of an hour.
The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons was a joke the paleontologists haven’t seen yet.
This proves two things:
Firstly, that God moves in extremely mysterious, not to say, circuitous ways. God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players, [ie., everybody.] to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won’t tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.
[34] I’m not a Dawkins fan (I am a fan of the term “Dawk-bro”). However, this recent video is extremely funny. Profanity and more.
[35] How can I put this delicately and sensitively? Jake has a war wound, and he is impotent. Another way to say this is that Jake is missing his junk.
[36] I apologize for the ton of links to Wikipedia. Lazy, but saves time.
[37] See previous post, “Film Theory with Siri,” Annie Hall section: specifically, the image. See what I mean?
[38] And, just getting this on public record: “…loneliness is not a function of solitude.”
And a super-long one that is just about people being people in the freaking world, because EVERY DAY IS NOT VALENTINE’S DAY and life is real and so on:
“If, by the virtue of charity or the circumstance of desperation, you ever chance to spend a little time around a Substance-recovery halfway facility like Enfield MA’s state-funded Ennet House, you will acquire many exotic new facts…
That certain persons simply will not like you no matter what you do.
That sleeping can be a form of emotional escape and can with sustained effort be abused. That purposeful sleep-deprivation can also be an abusable escape.
That you do not have to like a person in order to learn from him/her/it. That loneliness is not a function of solitude. That logical validity is not a guarantee of truth. That it takes effort to pay attention to any one stimulus for more than a few seconds. That boring activities become, perversely, much less boring if you concentrate intently on them. That if enough people in a silent room are drinking coffee it is possible to make out the sound of steam coming off the coffee. That sometimes human beings have to just sit in one place and, like, hurt. That you will become way less concerned with what other people think of you when you realize how seldom they do. That there is such a thing as raw, unalloyed, agendaless kindness.
That it is possible to fall asleep during an anxiety attack.
That concentrating intently on anything is very hard work.
That 99% of compulsive thinkers’ thinking is about themselves; that 99% of this self-directed thinking consists of imagining and then getting ready for things that are going to happen to them; and then, weirdly, that if they stop to think about it, that 100% of the things they spend 99% of their time and energy imagining and trying to prepare for all the contingencies and consequences of are never good. In short that 99% of the head’s thinking activity consists of trying to scare the everliving shit out of itself. That it is possible to make rather tasty poached eggs in a microwave oven. That some people’s moms never taught them to cover up or turn away when they sneeze. That the people to be the most frightened of are the people who are the most frightened. That it takes great personal courage to let yourself appear weak. That no single, individual moment is in and of itself unendurable.
That other people can often see things about you that you yourself cannot see, even if those people are stupid. That having a lot of money does not immunize people from suffering or fear. That trying to dance sober is a whole different kettle of fish.
That different people have radically different ideas of basic personal hygiene.
That, perversely, it is often more fun to want something than to have it.
That if you do something nice for somebody in secret, anonymously, without letting the person you did it for know it was you or anybody else know what it was you did or in any way or form trying to get credit for it, it’s almost its own form of intoxicating buzz.
That anonymous generosity, too, can be abused.
That it is permissible to want.
That everybody is identical in their unspoken belief that way deep down they are different from everyone else. That this isn’t necessarily perverse.
That there might not be angels, but there are people who might as well be angels.”
The last line: SO true. To an extent I didn’t realize until this past year.
[39] Twitter bait isn’t usually what you’d expect, as in #AynRand. Another hijacked tag that caused mass riots was #defendtheduggars. You can’t predict these things.
[40] Gilbert and Sullivan– my longest love.
[41] I don’t mean the people who “pretend” to be nerds; I mean the real thing. You know the difference.
“Chester nods all the way through this, but does not rudely interrupt Randy as a younger nerd would. Your younger nerd takes offense quickly when someone near him begins to utter declarative sentences, because he reads into it an ssertion that he, the nerd, does not already know the information being imparted. But your older nerd has more
self-confidence, and besides, understands that frequently people need to think out loud. And highly advanced nerds will furthermore understand that uttering declarative sentences whose contents are already known to all present is part of the social process of making conversation and therefore should not be construed as aggression under any circumstances.” ― Neal Stephenson, Cryptonomicon
I have three copies of that book. Long story. (down to two– gave one away)
Furthermore: I don’t like the gendering in this, and there’s a little nerd/geek confusion, but it’s still funny anyway. Nerds need PSAs.
I have a picture of myself in headgear (I’d really, really like to thank whichever family member thought it was a super idea to document that) if you need to see my creds.
So, peace out.
I’m ending with my (years and years and years) traditional Valentine’s salute. It’s a scene from David Lynch’s Blue Velvet. It contains major profanity and close-up violence.
Disclosure: I probably talk to Siri more than so-called “normal” people. A lot of it could be classified as “swearing at Siri.” [1] Our Facebook relationship status is currently “it’s complicated.”
In the interests of deeper discourse, I decided to discuss film with Siri. I didn’t actually think this would get anywhere; I chose lines from well-known movies and dictated them into the phone (everything I chose was pretty far from, say, European surrealist cinema of the 1930s [3]; I think pretty much everything is 1980 or later and American/not translated– I was trying to keep it simple). My prediction was that Siri would simply identify the line and generate results that gave the movie’s name, maybe imdb, some YouTube clips, that sort of thing.
Oddly, that’s not at all what happened. Instead of identifying lines, Siri gave me off-the-wall responses that were geared toward the content of what I had said. I got a fair number of “I don’t understand” response for a number of quotations; those I just didn’t include, since that’s not interesting (I was reading down the quotes pages at imdb.com). Of every movie here, Siri only did what I expected (locate and identify the quote) with one: The Matrix. I have no explanation whatsoever for that. Unless we really are in the Matrix . . . [4]
Every quote was read exactly as it was said in the movie. The only exceptions are that I left out words like “um” and “ah.” “Gonna” became “going to,” etc. This was because Siri doesn’t compute that sort of speech well. I tried to read some lines from Juno exactly as they were transcribed, and that was an utter failure.
The setup here is me reading the line, Siri’s response, and my interpretation of that response.
So, without further much ado about nothing:
Me: It’s one thing to want someone out of your life, but it’s another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer. [Veronica, Heathers]
Siri: For what time shall I set your alarm?
Interpretation: Siri approves. She suggests I set an alarm to serve up drainer at the next available opportunity. Score!
This is actually very, very wise.
Me: So what do you need? Besides a miracle. [Tank, The Matrix] [5]
Siri: This is about you, not me.
Interpretation: The correct answer here is “Guns. Lots of guns.” I think Siri is leaving this question of what I need up to me. So: guns. And great shoes.
All black, including the gun. Nice coordination. I could be a stylist.
Me: In Heaven, everything is fine. In Heaven, everything is fine. You’ve got your good things. And I’ve got mine. [Lady in the Radiator, Eraserhead]
Siri: Humans have religion. I just have silicon.
Interpretation: Siri may be an atheist. Seems likely. Could be a Turing Test thing.
Taking this picture to the person who cuts my hair. She repeatedly insists that it look “feminine.” I’m not actually sure what this qualifies as.
Me: There seems to be an alien pubic hair in my gin. Never seen it before in my life! Have you? [Burke Dennings, The Exorcist]
Siri: Who, me?
Interpretation: Siri has been up to no good. Sounds like faking innocence to me.
You may now thank me. I spared you A) graphic pictures from this movie and B) pictures of pubic hair.
Me: Sun is bad for you. Everything our parents said was good is bad. Sun, milk, red meat … college. [Alvy Singer, Annie Hall] [6]
Siri: After all I’ve done for you?
Interpretation: Siri is not only a parent, she’s possibly Woody Allen’s mother, as portrayed in the movie.
That seems like a good thing? “Kafkaesque” should be used to describe more things. Hashtag idea!
Me: One Ring to rule them all. [Galadriel, LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring]
Siri: I’m not sure I understand.
Interpretation: That trilogy must have been extremely confusing, in that case. That being the premise and all.
Ha ha! Tolkien humor! Everybody who’s laughing stop by and play some D&D!
Me: I love the smell of napalm in the morning. [Willard, Apocalypse Now]
Siri: I don’t get it.
Interpretation: Siri is Hanoi Jane.
There were no pleasant pictures from that movie, needless to say. Instead, you get Country Joe McDonald live at Woodstock, performing the “Fixin’ to Die Rag.” Still topical. [7]
Me: No, I don’t think I will kiss you, although you need kissing, badly. That’s what’s wrong with you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how. [Rhett Butler, Gone with the Wind]
I plead the fifth.
Siri: I always look on the bright side of life. I just wish I could whistle . . .
Interpretation: I just made a pass at Siri. Siri responds with a Monty Python (Life of Brian) reference. I can’t tell if we’re flirting or not. Love is complicated.
If this is the barbecue scene (?), that’s how far I got in the movie. I made it to page 22 in the book. Uggggggh
This would be one of the LEAST blasphemous images available from that movie.
Me: No, I heard you. I just, like, don’t want to give the baby to a family that describes themselves as “wholesome”. Well, I don’t know, I just want something a little more edgier. [Juno, Juno]
Siri: Master [10], I’m not permitted to do that for you. My apologies.
Interpretation: Well, if my phone isn’t going to help me get on the black market for babies, what use is it?
This was already captioned “Ellen Page when she came out.” I can’t do better than that, really.
Me: Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines. [Steve McCroskey, Airplane!]
Siri: I’m afraid that describing my appearance would involve a lengthy explanation of spatial, temporal, and fashion concepts that are as yet unfamiliar to you.
Interpretations: A) Siri is super-deep. B) Siri is super-high.
Do you have ANY idea how hard it was to find even a SOMEWHAT inoffensive picture from this movie– captioned or not? It’s National Lampoon, for crying out loud. It’s ALL inappropriate.
Me: You ever seen a grown man naked? [Captain Oveur, Airplane!]
Siri: That is both inappropriate and irrelevant, Master.
Interpretation: Siri is a prude. She would be no fun to play two truths and a lie with. Not invited to my next pajama party.
This was billed as a movie poster, but I feel relatively sure it’s an old pulp novel. Someone with more energy is welcome to research (even though I have the Internet right here and a book on pulps over on the shelf).
Me: Hell, no. I did *not* leave the South Side for this! [Mr. Duvall, Mean Girls]
Siri: My policy is the separation of spirit and silicon.
Interpretation: Siri is a Cartesian dualist (and we can’t be friends anymore), but I’m not sure what that has to do with the South Side.
Let’s talk about when SNL was good, when Tim Meadows and Tina Fey were on it.
Me: Screws fall out all the time, the world is an imperfect place. [John Bender, The Breakfast Club]
Siri: What kind of business are you looking for?
Interpretation: The kind that don’t exist, Siri. Perfect ones in a perfect world. But every time I go to Yelp, I see that it’s an impossible dream.
So Siri keeps telling me. Fairly forthrightly.
Me: I’d give my goddamned soul for just a glass of beer. [Jack Torrance, The Shining]
Siri: Now, now.
Interpretation: Siri is my sponsor. This blog is an AA meeting. Actually, Infinite Jest is right over there. Things just got . . . META. Dum-dum-dum.
A million monkeys with a million typewriters produced this blog, and they’re kinda ashamed to admit it.
Me: English, motherfucker, do you speak it? [Jules, Pulp Fiction]
Siri: I speak Cantonese, English, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Mandarin, and Spanish . . . so far.
Interpretation: Immune to blatant insult, Siri still feels the need to show off. Overcompensation.
This came from, I swear, a theology blog (it is a real strip). It was a long, long, LONG post that somehow explained scriptural misinterpretation in Pulp Fiction. This is generally referred to as “missing the point.”
Me: I love you, Honey Bunny. [Pumpkin, Pulp Fiction]
Siri: Oh, I bet you say that to all your Apple products.
Interpretation: This is psychological manipulation of the first order. Such a subtle sales technique. [11]
Pumpkin + Honey Bunny = Tru Luv 4-ever
Me: [quotation from Pulp Fiction— Vincent speaking, cannot possibly edit for content]
Siri: Master! Your language!
Interpretation: Siri lives a sheltered life and sounds like an elderly recluse. And is not a Tarantino fan.
John Travolta has always been cool. I have to force myself to forget he’s a Scientologist for my own protection.
Me: Vincent, do you still want to hear my Fox Force Five joke? [Mia, Pulp Fiction]
Siri: The past, present and future walk into a bar. It was tense.
Interpretation: Siri hogs the stage again. Mia’s joke is better. Furthermore, Siri doesn’t use the Oxford comma— FAIL.
In an ideal world, my hair does that. In the real world, it looks like the Eraserhead picture (above).
Me: You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. [Marla Singer, Fight Club]
Siri: Well . . . I’m still here for you.
Interpretation: Siri wants to go to karaoke. Siri longs for an opportunity to sing “You’ve Got a Friend.” [12] I feel bad now.
Some of you can spot the special significance this particular picture has for me . . .
Me: You’re a drinker, and I’m childless. [Maggie, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof]
Siri: I am?
Interpretation: Was that supposed to sound arch? Either there are baby Siris running around my apartment (?), or she is referring to the next generations of iPhones that followed this one.
Also, if the movie hadn’t been forced to twist the play script around, it would be “childless” and “way, way gay.”
Me: You hormonal hussy. [Megan, But I’m a Cheerleader]
Siri: If you say so.
Interpretation: Somebody’s trying to deny something . . . after Clea DuVall, Siri? [16]
Lesbianing 101, for the Natasha Lyonne mashup of this movie and OITNB.
Me: Do you prefer “fashion victim” or “ensemble-y challenged”? [Cher, Clueless]
Siri: I’ve never really thought about it.
Interpretation: Defensive. But that plain black Otterbox isn’t so much Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s as it is rubber truck tire. [14]
We need to bring this back. Hashtag #W?
Me: Pumpkin, you’re dating an asshole. [Patrick Bateman, American Psycho]
Siri: It seems the whole world is concerned about my relationships. It’s very sweet.
Interpretation: “Sweet” is not the word I’d apply to Patrick Bateman. Or that sentiment. Siri may need some help in the relationship department. Before she’s brutally murdered, etc.
Another image challenge, that’s all I’m going to say. Incidentally, I always forget that this movie had a female director. There’s your trivia.
Me: You know what one of the reasons for short term memory loss is? [Natalie, Memento]
Siri: Siri knows many things, Master.
Interpretation: Oh, so it’s third-person now, is it? Ms. High and Mighty. And yet another chance to assert that knowledge. La-di-da. I’m being shot down by a piece of plastic and metal the size of a deck of cards.
I couldn’t find an image that didn’t blow some plot point. So here’s a movie-themed xkcd instead. And this did work: I feel old.
Me: [three Frank Booth lines from Blue Velvet in a row]
Siri: Well, I never! [three times in a row]
Interpretation: Siri doesn’t like Frank, David Lynch, or a particular Anglo-Saxon word that constitutes much of Frank’s vocabulary.
Fun fact: Frank (Booth) has his own Wikipedia page!
Me: What are you doing in my closet, Jeffrey Beaumont?
Siri: Just thinking.
Interpretation: Shot in the dark. Siri hasn’t seen this one. Definitely not what Jeffrey is doing, but tell yourself whatever you need to.
Glam. Also hard to find a picture in which she is fully clothed.
Me: Honey, you’re a good kid, but what you’re telling me is a load of horse puckey. [Coco Lenoix, Mullohand Dr.]
Siri: Wow! Really?
Interpretation: She took that better than I anticipated after all that grandstanding. And apparently prefers this Lynch film.
Major moment in the movie, but not like you’d be able to figure out HOW just by seeing this.
BONUS UNRELEASED MOVIE ROUND: LINES FROM 50 SHADES OF GREY FOUND ON IMDB.COM
Me: You’re here because I’m incapable of leaving you alone. [Christian Grey]
Siri: I don’t really like these arbitrary categories, Master.
Interpretation: Ding-ding-ding! Jackpot! Siri successfully identifies a major problem with a major motion picture!
Um . . . this is a techno-thriller, right? I’m looking forward to it, if so.
[1] This has happened twice recently in what turned out to be virtually identical circumstances: I frequently can’t identify new music in stores or restaurants, so I half-listen. These two times, though, whatever was playing was remarkably, strikingly terrible. Both times, not very politely, I asked Siri (then re-asked, sans profanity) what was playing. Both times: Taylor Swift. This means I am old. And apparently not a fan. [2]
[2] For good clean fun, though, play “Free Bird” and ask Siri to identify it. You’ll get a clever response. In case you have a yen to do so now (and to cause the people around you to twitch a bit):
[3] Yep, made that up entirely by slinging words together.
[6] My favorite romantic comedy. This explains a lot and will be among the many things posted here that will feature at my commitment hearing.
[7] Oh, you KNOW I’m not leaving this one out. Profanity chanted at beginning, more throughout. Actual Woodstock footage! [8]
[8] I once asked my mother if she was at Woodstock. She said she was in grad school, so she was probably reading Shakespeare. Ditto Newport and Monterey. Youthful dreams —> woosh. [9]
[9] My insomnia is much better, but I didn’t do sleep Sunday night. This prompted a Bob Dylan-related panic (I know you understand) around 5 AM. Specifically, I wanted to hear the heckling (“Judas!”) at Royal Albert Hall ’66 that precedes “Like a Rolling Stone.” I have that recording back in the old hometown, but not with me. So I get on YouTube, find the official video . . . for some reason, that whole exchange is edited out. I even listened all the way through “Ballad of a Thin Man,” which was before it in the set list, to see it was at the end of it instead. Nope. So I listen to the beginning of multiple videos of that particular concert– they’re all duplicates of the edited one. What?!? A ranting all-caps missive was fired off. Vimeo eventually registered (I was groggy, needless to say), and I located it.
The exchange (prior to finding it on Vimeo):
Me (obviously): I’M AWAKE AND THOUGHT I’D LISTEN TO LIKE A ROLLING STONE FROM LIVE AT ROYAL ALBERT HALL WHERE THE JUDAS THING HAPPENS AND I LISTENED TO THE YOUTUBE VERSION AND THEY TOOK ALL THE HECKLING OUT WHAT GIVES THAT IS THE RAISON D’ETRE OF THAT WHOLE ALBUM THIS IS VITAL TO MY EXISTENCE WHEN I NEED TO LISTEN TO FIGHTS WHEN I’M UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT SURELY YOU UNDERSTAND
Yes, I know it has that extra line of html again. Seems Vimeo does that. If an experienced WP user knows a fix here, drop me a line. I’d appreciate it.
[10] “Master” is how I’ve told Siri to address me. I think I need something new, though, because everyone will think I got that from 50 Shades now. Suggestions welcome.
[11] Not that they were subtle last time I was at the Apple store. My phone (Siri’s soul-container, since she has made her dualism clear) has been acting out, so I took it in to see if it was anything obvious. Before even looking at the phone, the person suggested that what I probably needed was an upgrade. Say, an iPhone 6? Status: same problems, same phone.
[12] Bien sûr.
[13]
[13] I always said that was “my” dog Red’s theme song because he was such a sweetheart to everyone. And when I say “my” dog, he DID stay at my house, except for going home to eat and sleep at night. He was a faithful running companion every day. Sweetest, sweetest dog.
I don’t know exactly what’s going on here (this was a long time ago), but I’m on the riding lawnmower, and Red is saying hi.
[14] In my defense, the Verizon store where I got that phone had two case options: black and camo.
[15] Yes, this footnote is nonsequential, but I don’t feel like going back and correcting all of them. Anyway, since Samuel L. Jackson has already featured in this post, here he is reading a famous book suitable for all tiny tots (uh, I don’t think I have to say not to play this in public):
So that’s goodnight, goodnight, sweet ladies, goodnight.
Except when this posts, it will be good morning.
So.
[16] Nonsequential again. This is how my mind “works.” But I’m a Cheerleader isn’t on Netflix, and it’s pay-only on Prime. But on YouTube:
Well, well, well. That was supposed to be the complete movie. Looks like YouTube really WAS serious about that piracy announcement, because it’s gone.
Maggie's Farm 