Make it Stop

I have an admission to make: I am not the fearless wonder that I'd like you all to think I am. Sure, I have all the obvious, general fears that most normal people develop over time, if they have enough sense, but I've also got one completely ridiculous, pointless fear that has recently been at the forefront of my psyche due to seeing variations on this ad all over the internet:



You know, I love horror movies, I imagine I've made that pretty clear by now. I don't generally get scared when I watch them, no nightmares, sleeping with the lights on, that sort of thing. Some have certainly made me uneasy, I can be grossed out on occasion, and I'll even squeeze out a grimace if something on screen looks particularly painful, but overall, horror doesn't, well, HORRIFY me. However, when you throw a dummy into the mix, the deal's off-I'm OUT.

I can pinpoint the approximate time when this whole fear started. I was about 4 years old, and that movie 'Magic' with Anthony Hopkins had just come out. I don't remember the specific details, but supposedly, I saw an ad for it and was a bit disturbed. It makes sense to a degree-the ad was considerably creepy (I think I posted it here awhile back), and even the most brave soul has to admit that there's something OFF about those damn dolls. It should have ended there, but my sister, being the type of person she is, instead of comforting me, went out and purchased a Magic poster, and promptly tacked it up on her wall and the ghoulish spectre of Magic's bug-eyed, wooden visage caused my young self no end of consternation and pain.

Bitch.

I know WHEN it all started, but I'm fuzzy on the WHY. What is it about these inanimate pint-sized balls of varnished evil that bothers me so? Is it the eyes? The movable mandible? The thin little ankles? Do I think one is going to break into my house and give me splinters or something? Mr. Marbles?

There's no logical basis for this fear, and that irks me. Most fears have some basis in reality, eg: you have a fear of heights because you're afraid you're going to fall and kill yourself; you're afraid of small, confined spaces because you're afraid of running out of oxygen and suffocating; you're afraid of the dark because they're might be a deranged killer lurking in the shadows that you can't see who's going to cut your guts out and wear them as a jaunty hat-all of these things can and do occur (what, you've never heard of the Jaunty Hat murderer? It was in all the papers, I swear) But unless I'm mistaken, no one has ever been assaulted by a sentient dummy (and if they have, I really don't want to know about it, thank you).

Despite the fact that I know the chances of me dying at the hands of a puppet are slim to nil, I'm still unable to quell my fear. Perhaps I should go see Dead Silence when it comes out and face my semi-phobia head on. I mean, it can't be that scary, since it was made by the same folks who made the Saw movies, and Saw was a gay romp as far as I'm concerned. Really, I defy you to name me one single frightening thing about it...

Uh, Besides That.

Pink Floyd

"`Harry Potter' Stage Strip Stirs Storm"

...IN MAH PANTS!

I'm just kidding.

Or am I?

As most folks know by now, Harry Potter star Daniel Radcliffe will soon be appearing on the London stage in Equus, the story of a boy who is...Exceedingly fond of horses. Recently, some promotional photos from the play have been making the rounds on the internet, and I guess there's a big to-do about it, since he's all nekkid and stuff. I mean, you can't see his bits, but well, here:

I honestly don't know what I think here. I know several grown women who have expressed a DESIRE to edumacate Daniel in the art of love, and usually I just think to myself "See you on Dateline!", and go on about my business. But after seeing this photo, I gotta say, it's not the worst thing I've ever seen in my life. I'm a little put-off by the way he's looking at that horse, but otherwise, he's not an altogether bad looking KID. Maybe I'll feel better about my reaction to this photo in about 6 months when he turns 18.

Yes, I checked to see when he turns 18...For research purposes, you understand.

Shut up.

Yahoo News

Naturally Thin Like Posh?

I know this picture doesn't perfectly go with this post, but I figure it's close enough, plus I've been wanting to use it for awhile now. So, up it goes.

Former Spice Girl Victoria Beckham has banned size zero models from promoting her clothing line.
The skinny singer-turned-fashion designer is the latest figurehead to clamp down on too-thin catwalk stars - even though she sports a tiny figure herself.
When Beckham launches her new range of denim, she promises it will be modeled by curvier women.
A source tells British newspaper The Sun, "Victoria wants to give out a positive image that you don't have to be ultra skinny to look good. Many of the models on the catwalk make young girls feel insecure about their own bodies."
Although the star herself believes many models are naturally thin, she says, "I know quite a few models and they do eat. They are just naturally thin girls."


Starpulse

Sunday Music Dump

Dumb Blonde

I have two dogs. There's Pepper, the light of my life, my canine pride and joy, and then there's....Lily.

Oh, when we got Lily, she was exactly 6 weeks old. So cute. Harper had gone to the grocery store with my dad, and some people were giving away puppies in the parking lot. Harper comes home all excited-she REALLY wanted one of these dogs. Normally, when she sees some random animal and decides that she simply MUST HAVE IT, I say no, and believe me, I say no A LOT. But this time, she was absolutely overcome with emotion, and at that time, she was keeping her behavior in check.

So, we go BACK to the store, and I'm confronted with a pack of excruciatingly adorable yellow lab mixes. Up until that point, I was still unconvinced that I should take on another animal to raise (at that time-april of last year-we were in possession of one dog, Pepper; a turtle, John; and the world's largest chicken, cleverly named Chickadee. John and Chickadee are no longer with us.) Despite all my bluster and my savagely cool demeanor (what?), I am a gigantic softie deep down, and I relented. She makes her pick (the only thing I told her, was that it HAD to be a female), and we go home with a fat, fluffball that she dubs Lily.

And all was good. For awhile. Lily was was a well-behaved puppy for the most part. Sure, she crapped in the floor, peed on my bed, and chewed my belongings, but she was obscenely goodnatured, and it bears repeating, PAINFULLY cute.

Cut to almost a year later-she's STILL taking MUCH LARGER dumps upon my floor, she's stopped peeing on my bed, but instead manages to takes squirts in obscure parts of the house (and I still manage to step in them), and on occasion, chows down on my furniture, and now she's tall enough to root in the garbage. She's still rocking the winning personality, to a degree, only she's not as cute anymore.

Yesterday, I got about 4 rolls of film developed(No, there were none of me), and after going through all of the pictures, I found one solitary photo of the canine in question. It's not a good one, but since I posted Pepper's saucy centerfoldesque pic way back when I started this blog, I thought I'd give equal time to her sister. She's big, she's dumb, she's destructive, she enrages me at least twice a day, but I still love her...Most of the time.

Now presenting, Lily:

Tokyo Police Club-"Citizens of Tomorrow"

Flashback

Last night, I actually managed to get to sleep before the ass crack of dawn. Of course, I also WOKE UP before the ass crack of dawn-I can't win. I won't bore you with the harrowing details of every single thing that seemed to unite in some sort of conspiracy to keep me from sleeping. I will say that I ended up turning on the television, which I am known to do on occasion (amazingly, not as often as you'd think), and THIS movie was on, and I managed to turn it on during THIS exact scene. Sometimes I get lucky. Never did get back to sleep, though...

Thank You, Captain Tightpants

I have had a seriously craptacular week. It was one of those weeks where the big problems seemed to just get bigger, and the minor pains-in-the-ass were many and varied. Somehow, I managed to make it to saturday night without reaching my breaking point, and don't you know it took something as trivial as the dog relieving itself on my floor to cause me to have a meltdown?

Well, it wasn't a proper meltdown: I just let loose a stream of obscenities, my eyes got all red and ugly, and I do believe I stated to no one in particular, that everyone in my house was an idiot (thankfully everyone was asleep, aside from me and the dumbest dog in creation.) After I composed myself, I removed the offending feces from my rug, and went to take a shower.

While I was in the shower, something happened. I don't know if the water was too hot, I don't know if it was the smell of the soap, or if it was because it was the only moment I've had to myself to contemplate things in the past 2 days, but I just started BAWLING. Every miniscule detail of every single offense of the past week, just came rushing through my brain, and it all hit me pretty hard.

I calmed down, and truth be told, I actually felt much better after my mini-breakdown than I felt all week, and I decided that instead of making a sure-to-be worthless attempt at sleep, I would turn to my old insomnina-fueled habit of watching a crappy movie. I had gotten out of that habit for one reason or another, but since I got Netflix, I've been allowing myself to rent movies that I might not rent otherwise, mainly because if I'm going to pay $4.00 at the video store for a movie, I want it to be good. So, I popped Slither into the DVD player, and prepared myself for some good, old fashioned cinematic cheese...

OK, who went and replaced my shitty movie with a good one?

Yes, I watched a movie called 'Slither', and I just said it was good-that's not the half of it. I haven't told you what it's about yet.

As the small town of Wheelsy is gearing up for their annual Deer Cheer celebration (wherein they celebrate the start of deer hunting season), a meteor falls from the sky, containing...We don't know yet. We're then introduced to our key players: Police chief Bill Pardy (played by Nathan Fillion of Firefly, and who is also one of my 14 husbands), rich guy Grant Grant (nope, not a typo. Grant Grant is played by Michael Rooker of Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer fame. He's still creepy as ever) and Grant Grant's lovely wife, Starla, a high school teacher (played by Elizabeth Banks, who's been on Scrubs several times. Speaking of, I finally got into Scrubs, and I don't know how I lived so long without Dr. Cox in my tv viewing life. But that's another post.)

Anyway, after an argument with Starla, Grant Grant ends up in the woods, and a sluggy, wormy critter comes skittering out of the meteor and barrels into Grant Grant's chest. He begins to act and look a bit differently, and then pets and livestock start to disappear, a woman disappears and eventually Grant Grant himself disappears. Pretty soon, you've got townsfolk acting like zombies, and no one can enjoy the start of deer hunting season. It's up to Bill and Starla to find Grant Grant and get to the bottom of things before things get REALLY bad.

At this point, you may be asking "How can ANYTHING you just described to me possibly be considered good, by any stretch of the imagination?" Ah, your question is valid, if a tad on the argumentative side (you people and your sassy mouths.) It's good because it doesn't take itself seriously-it's a comedy, and a good one. I'm not going to lie and say that Slither is some piece of brilliant filmaking-it's not the greatest movie I've ever seen, hell it's not even the best movie I saw last WEEK (that honor falls to Little Miss Sunshine-that was just about perfect), but it's FUNNY and ENTERTAINING.

I'd say a good portion of that has to do with Nathan Fillion. I may have stated before that I love the man, and not ALL of it is due to the fact that I think he's totally hot, and I want to have his illegitimate babies. He's not the best actor in the world, but he's mastered this kind of dry, sardonic persona that works for him, especially in Slither (favorite line: "My easy goin' nature is getting sorely fucking tested".) If he can keep finding roles like Bill Pardy and Mal Reynolds (AKA Captain Tightpants), then I'll keep watching him work, and not just to satisfy my lust, either.

Slither is not high art by any definition-it's a B-grade horror/comedy, but a superior one, and most importantly a FUNNY one, and at that point in time, it was just what I needed.

Now then, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with my Firefly DVDs...

Harper's Bizarre

There is a huge chance this could turn into one of those long-winded, moody-type schpiels. I hate making those posts. It's just not ME, you know. But I've got something on my mind, and it's about Harper, so I figured I could slip it into one of her music dealies, and no one would make too big of a thing about it. Pretty sneaky, huh?

Yesterday, I had one of those super-fun parent/teacher conferences at school. This is the second one I've had in as many months. She's not going around beating the snot out of the other kids, or anything like that, it's more to do with some of the things she says, which they've deemed 'innapropriate'. So, I was told by her teacher, the school nurse, the guidance counseler and some other woman, that 'perhaps' I should have her go in for psychological testing. YAY! THEY THINK MY KID'S CRAZY!

Oy.

As you may imagine, I was less than thrilled with this assessment of my pride and joy. I mean, they didn't come right out and say that was what they thought. Basically, they said that she was very smart, in fact one of them ACTUALLY SAID that she was "too smart for her own good" (!!), and it might be working against her. In effect, she has a vivid imagination, she says and does things that they don't get, and some of the kids are afraid of her.

You know, if this wasn't making me so upset, I'd be really proud that I gave birth to a mad genius.

The thing about this that really pisses me off, is that I don't know if I agree or disagree with what they said. Now, I don't think that's she's bonkers, or anything like that-she's certainly quirky, that's for damn sure, and even though I know that kind of thing is frowned upon (especially in small town Texas), it still makes me angry that instead of trying to understand her, they've just decided that it's a negative quality and it's to be stiffled (one of them, only one, surprisingly, made mention of medication. NO.)

However, there's a part of me, the Mom part of me, that wants her to be accepted and not thought of as a pariah, and knows that she has a tendency to cause some awkward moments when we're out(I've cringed at some of the stuff that comes out of her mouth when we're in public.) But see, that's just it though: maybe because I'm a bit on the odd side, I don't notice it as much, but when she's at home, she doesn't say anything that I'VE-or anyone else here, now that I think about it-ever construed as being peculiar. At home, she acts like a normal kid, for the most part, and only when she leaves the comfort of home does she let her freak flag fly. I'm sure part of the answer lies in that statement, but aside from keeping her prisoner, I can't glean a solution from it.

I guess I'll go ahead and get her tested, because maybe I can learn something from what they find, even if it's nothing (which is not without precedent: when she was about 4, we had to take her to a shrink because she bit her endocrinologist. The psychiatrist said he didn't think there was anything wrong with her, in his opinion, she was just fed up with being stuck with huge needles. Get. Out.)

But I digress...

Actually, I wasn't going to post this Bizarre thing after saying all that, but it's actually in context with what I just talked about. See, my sister in law got Harper a guitar for Christmas. Well, she's just loving the hell out of that damn instrument, however my ears are less than thrilled. I've ALMOST told her to give it a rest many a time, but since the first school meeting, I've opted to let her release her creativity here, at home, where it won't get her into trouble, even at the risk of my own sanity-I'm a SAINT, doncha know? So, I let her pluck along to my CDs, and right now, she's way into Guided By Voices, which isn't so bad. She doesn't sound ANYTHING like what she's playing along with, of course, but she's happy, so I don't give a rat's ass that it sounds like she's poking a cat with a sharp stick.

I told you-I'm a SAINT.

Ladytron-"High Rise"

Music For a Lazy Sunday

Better Than a Poke in the Eye

I have come to the conclusion that Blogger hates me, has somehow achieved sentience, and is trying to make me insane. I have been trying since last night to post about this movie, Session 9, and it wouldn't let me. I either couldn't sign in, which has happened quite a bit lately since they-AHEM-worked out the bugs with Beta, OR I'd manage to sign in, and I'd get a blank page which, though very pristine looking, doesn't really help me any. I finally managed to sign in and access the posting doohickey (yes, that's the technical term), so maybe I can finish this before Blogger goes back into Hal 9000 mode and tries to fling an evacutaion pod at me or something.

Back to the reason I'm here, Session 9. Here's the plot synopsis from the almighty IMDB, since I'm too frustrated and wracked with paranoia to compose one myself:

An asbestos abatement crew wins the bid for an abandoned insane asylum. What should be a straightforward, if rather rushed, job, is complicated by the personal histories of the crew. In particular, Hank is dating Phil's old girlfriend, and Gordon's new baby seems to be unnerving him more than should be expected. Things get more complicated as would-be lawyer Mike plays the tapes from a former patient with multiple personalities, including the mysterious Simon who does not appear until Session 9, and Hank disappears after finding some old coins.

Alrighty then. I'm going to keep this on the short side, because I'm a bit haggard and borderline bonkers from my rumble with Blogzilla, and also since the movie is so hard to pin down, if I try and say everything I want to say about it, I risk making the longest post in the history of the internet.

First of all, this is NOT a by-the-numbers horror movie, and unless you have some idea of that before getting into it, you probably won't like it. It relies more on atmosphere, and the viewer's impression of the characters and events that take place to give it a palpable sense of uneasiness, and it WORKS-you don't know if there's someone besides the workers in the hospital; you don't know if one of the workers might be crazy; if you DO know one of them is crazy, you don't know exactly WHY, and it performs quite the little mindfuck on the viewer. Plus, a good portion of the film's eeriness is centered on the story that unfolds on the taped sessions with the former patient, and you start to get antsy wondering just what in the hell happened to this woman-with this movie, it's more the behavior of the characters and the build-up to the end that gives you the creeps, not constant, wall-to-wall death and mayhem.

On top of that, aside from a couple of very brief appearances by minor players (and the voices on the tapes, of course), the movie is populated by only 5 guys, and that brings a very claustrophobic feel (think "The Shining") to the proceedings. Most of the guys surely go home to their wives, girlfriends, kids, pets, what have you, but you don't see any of that-you just see them at work, and their interactions with each other. That actually works for and against the movie, since on the positive side, it adds to the overall feeling of dread and seclusion of the film once the trust between the men starts to erode. On the NEGATIVE side, you end up not finding out much about them, other than the dynamic they have with each other, and you just don't have enough information to actually CARE about any of them (I liked Mike for some reason, but not enough that I really gave a damn what happened to him.)

I posted way more than I intended here, so let me just wrap up by saying that despite the lack of character development, Session 9 is an eerie little prince of a movie, and if you want something in a horror movie besides some dude stalkin' and a'slashin' a bunch of teenagers, then I highly recommend it...Not that there's anything WRONG with carving up teenagers, of course...I meant ON FILM, that is. What did you think, I was condoning the murder of teens? I would never say that killing teens was wrong and mean it...Mean it some OTHER WAY, is what I was trying to say: I did mean to say that there was nothing wrong with slicing up teens, just not--I better stop now...Stop the POST now, not stop killing teenagers...Wait, no-well, that tears it: Blogger has finally turned me into an official, full-on nutjob. I better sign off before I say something else that might get me into trouble, like how in the past 24 hours, I've been hearing a voice coming from my shampoo bottle, telling me to...



Err, nevermind.

Okkervil River-"For Real"

Amateur

I had an internal debate about posting this, because I didn't want to say anything that makes me sound like a psychotic egomaniac. But, I think I can manage to avoid that, and still get away with saying that this would never, ever happen to me, not in a million, billion years. Why? When you're playing TP with a game board, there is one mistake that experienced players just do not make: NEVER pick the yellow game piece.

A 21-year-old woman was hospitalized for intoxication over the weekend after "continually providing wrong answers" during a game of Trivial Pursuit where participants drank alcohol and did drugs when they answered incorrectly.

Flurisha L. Cooper, of the 1000 block of N. Central Park Ave., and Bridgette Pierce, of the 1500 block of E. 65th St., were playing the 2006 Current Events version of Trivial Pursuit about 6:30 p.m. Saturday on the 1000 block of N. Monticello Ave, according to a report taken by Harrison District police officers.

If a player provided an incorrect answer, that person would take a shot of E&J Brandy and take a "hit" off a cannabis "blunt," according to the report, which defined a "blunt" as the street name for cannabis rolled up in cigar leaves.

Cooper, 21, who was the yellow piece, continually provided wrong answers, resulting in over intoxication. She was taken to Norwegian-American Hospital where was listed in good condition, the report stated.

The incident was an accident, according to the report.

Information regarding charges was unavailable as of 7 a.m. Tuesday.


Chicago Sun Times

Everybody Into the Pool

WARNING: This post is going to be just a tad on the morbid side, so if you're offended by conjecture about death, GET OUT NOW!



Last night, instead of going out like most people do on New Year's Eve, I stayed home, and talked myself into cleaning Harper's room. Ostensibly, that's a job for her, but the room had gotten so cluttered that she couldn't possibly have done it herself. See, during the summer, it was so hot in there, due to the central AC going on the fritz, that she had been sleeping in my room for the past several months, and we had basically just been throwing her stuff in there and not thinking about it. Well, one of my new years resolutions (OK, only) was that I wanted-nay-NEEDED my room back, so after she went to sleep, I grabbed a wad of trashbags and set about sorting through the massive nightmare of clutter that would have felled even the most hearty of men (I'm a chick, therefore I could handle it with no problem.)



After about an hour of hearing nothing but the crinkle of trashbags and the clatter of flimsy plastic, I decided to turn the TV on for some company. I flipped through the channels for awhile before deciding on The Andy Griffith Show. I'll admit, I like the show-it's comforting, and doesn't require much thought (normally, I have no problem with thinking, but I was too busy chucking toys and paper into a bag to subject myself to any mental exertion over a tv show.) That being said, it actually DID end up making me think, but it had nothing to do with the shenanigans taking place in Mayberry.

I got to wondering why Andy Griffith was still alive.

Now, now-I don't have any ill will towards Andy: that's not what I'm saying. What I mean is, last year, after Don Knotts died, they had a bunch of people on Larry King who had worked with him, including Andy Griffith. I remember thinking that he wasn't looking so good; he's old, and he seemed a bit addled, and I thought to myself that his time on this mortal coil was looking a bit short. Cut to almost a year later, and as far as I know, he's still kicking.

After I finished with the room (or after I got too tired to go on-I didn't finish cleaning it until this afternoon. It looks GREAT, BTW), I got on the interweb and did some poking around a couple of those celebrity dead pool sites. Some of the names listed on those sites just jumped out at me-I either whole heartedly agreed with the notion that the person would be croaking sometime soon, or I thought they were dead already.

On that note, I have compiled a list of people that, in my opinion, have a tenuous grip on their own mortality. Again, I would like to state that I don't actively dislike any of these people-even if I did, I'm not the type that wishes death on a person. Let me make it known that I don't WANT them to die, but I will say that if any of these folks were to pass away this year, it wouldn't shock the hell out of me (although I would feel a bit creepy if any of them died after I put their name on a list like this), and to drive the point home that I am a stand-up gal, I would never actually bet money on the death of anyone, so if we were to lose any of these folks, I would not benefit financially-that's just gross: The knowledge that I can foretell a visit from the Grim Reaper is all I need, thankyouverymuch.

Estelle Getty
Lady Bird Johnson
Nancy Reagan
Richard Dawson
James Arness
Richard Widmark
Natasha Lyonne
Charlton Heston
Ernest Borgnine
J.D. Salinger
Carl Reiner
Walter Cronkite
Courtney Love
Muhammad Ali
Harry Morgan
Abe Vigoda
Kirk Douglas
Fred Phelps (ok, maybe there's some wishful thinking going on with this one.)

May they all (except Phelps) live long and prosper.

Sarah McLachlan-"Ice"

Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan-"Revolver"

As this is my first post-Christmas post, I thought I would take this time to point out 8 things that I learned over the holidays this year.

1. When together, my brother and father cannot go more than 5 minutes without talking about the Dallas Cowboys.

2. If I give it too much thought, a gift as innocuous and cheap as 2 boxes of chocolate covered cherries can make me cry.

3. The average adult female can only watch the Suite Life of Zack and Cody Christmas episode 4 times before lashing out at her loved ones.

4. I will constantly bitch about the fact that they show a Christmas Story non-stop on tv, but eventually, I will end up watching it at least once.

5. Every single time I watch the aforementioned film, when the Bumpass hounds swipe the turkey and Darren McGavin yells "Sons of bitches!" out the back door, I produce a sound that I am pretty sure has never been made by any other human being.

6. My mom is the most awesome person that ever lived. (I already knew that, but it bears repeating.)

7. When it is placed on your foot, the Fureal Friends Butterscotch Pony weighs about as much as a real, adult horse.

8. I don't care what anyone says, if a person wants something badly enough, an innanimate object CAN make them happy.

Almost Forgot...

I just now managed to get Harper to sleep, and I want to wait until she's out good so that I can...Uh, purchase illegal weapons over the internet. Yeah, that'll work. Anyway, I thought while I had a few minutes I could post this lil' doohickey, because I've been wanting to for MONTHS now, and if I don't post it now, I'll have to wait another year, and that will just not do. For those of you that read this here blog on the regular, you should have expected something like this, because when it comes to certain things, I am absurdly predictable. With other things, not so much.



APPLESAUCE!!



See, you weren't expecting that, were you? Yeah, I didn't think so.(Pardon me, I'm tired and a bit loopy.)

And now for your viewing and listening pleasure, "Let's Have a Patrick Swayze Christmas", from MST3k.

Merry Christmas

I finally finished my shopping today (yeah, I'm an unapologetic procrastinator-whatchu gon' do about it?), and I'm feeling a mite better than I have been for the past few weeks. Since I'm all happy now (not "happy" exactly, just not "oh, woah is me". I can accept that), I figured I'd post a little holiday music. I've even included a Hannukah song;not so much out of any kind of interfaith solidarity, it's just that I love that damn dreidel song.

BTW: that pic? I found that on the interweb, but I remember my mom giving me a card with that exact same cartoon on it, several years ago. That's my mom for ya...

Subtle Plans Are Here Again

Due to various holiday plans and preparations, I'm posting the saturday movie a couple of days early. I've got a ridiculous amount of things I have to do in the next few days, and if I get five minutes to myself (highly unlikely), I want to spend it doing absolutely nothing, not fighting with Blogger.

On top of all that, I really just don't FEEL like posting. Every year, I look forward to Christmas, and then when it gets close to it, I get depressed. I don't know why, exactly; it's a fairly recent development, just in the last few years. I suppose it has something to do with becoming a mother, and having that feeling of not being able to make Christmas as happy an experience for Harper as it was for me when I was a kid. But then again, maybe I've glossed over my childhood memories to make them seem happier than they really were, I guess everyone does to a degree. There's something more than that at play, but I've never been able to put my finger on it, plus I've already been down quite a bit lately, even before the idea of another Christmas sunk in-put it all together, and I feel like pure crap.

But enough of me and my whining, on to the movie...

This is not what I was planning to post. I had a film all picked out, and for whatever reason, I changed my mind. I happened upon this one purely by accident, and when I found it, I was surprised I hadn't already thought of it. Without realizing it, watching this has become a tradition for me: for the past, say, 5 years, late Christmas Eve/Early Christmas morning, I watch it while doing some Xmas-related mom activities (you know the ones I mean...Yes, you do) and I think that this year in particular, it fits my mood more than anything else I could post in it's place: Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, Rudolph, Silent Night, Deadly Night-none of those really fit my mentality of "Depressed, yet able to laugh" (well, not so sure about SN,DN-that might produce a chuckle.)

So, what's this movie (not exactly a movie) I keep droning on about? It's Blackadder's Christmas Carol (see? Not a movie.) It's got Rowan Atkinson, Miranda Richardson, Robbie Coltrane, Stephen Fry and, oh yes, Hugh Laurie (who, despite popular belief, had a career before House); It's got your clever bastardization of Dickens; and it's got your dry and semi-tacky British humor that all the young kids seem to like these days-if that's not perfect holiday entertainment...I can't think of a clever metaphor to insert there, so I should probably end the post now.

Happy Holidays, kids.

Björk-"It's Oh So Quiet"

RIP Joseph Barbera

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Legendary Hollywood animator Joseph Barbera, whose characters Fred and Wilma Flintstone and Scooby-Doo made generations of people laugh, died on Monday at age 95, the Warner Bros. film studio said in a statement.

Barbera founded Hanna-Barbera Studios with his partner William Hanna nearly 50 years ago, and it grew to become one of Hollywood's best known animation companies producing hundreds of cartoons and winning numerous awards.

He died at his home in the Los Angeles-area community of Studio City with his wife Sheila by his side, Warner Bros. said. No further details were disclosed...

Yahoo News

Also, RIP Chris Hayward.

Motown Sampler

In the interest of full disclosure, I have to say that Supremes song always makes me cry. Why? Well, you know how you sometimes get a song stuck in your head, and you can't get rid of it? I had that song stuck in my head when I was in LABOR. At the time, it was VERY annoying, but now I've attached kind of a nostalgic signifigance to it, morphing it into a touching memory. Although at the time, I was thisclose to asking a nurse to bash my head in with a fetal moniter just to get it out of my head. But now it makes me all mushy. Memories are funny things, eh?

The Richest Man in Town

While searching for a film today, I came across 2 that would be perfect for my whole "December Saturdays Christmas Extravaganza" (yes, I gave it a name...Not a very good name, but it gets the point across). My final decision on which one to post came down to practicality: next weekend, I'm probably going to be too busy to post anything, and if I'm not too busy to post, I will definitely be too busy to say much about the film, so I'd rather wait and post something that I don't have much to say in regards to. I'm not too happy about doing it this way, because the film I'm posting today is more closely associated with Christmas, and I'd rather wait and post it ON Xmas day, or at least only a few days before. But I can't.

This movie...

I have a distinct memory of the first time I actually saw this movie, even remember the exact date: December 24, 1991. At age 15, I had already become the strange hybrid of film snob and celluloid trash connisseur that I am today. In the wee hours of that Christmas eve morning, my trashy side had just finished watching Popcorn, a silly, late-80s horror flick. After it was over, at around 2am, I was still wide awake and looking for something else to watch. I was flipping through the channels, and upon seeing an ad for It's A Wonderful Life, which was about to start, I paused and a bizarre inner debate commenced.

Until that time, I had managed to avoid seeing IaWL, which was rather difficult, because at that time, you had to ACTIVELY evade it since they showed it like 10 times a day around Christmas. Everything I had heard about this movie suggested it was nothing more than treacly smaltz, and I wanted nothing to do with it. Still, I had a need to cleanse my mental pallete of the grungy aftertaste of Popcorn, and I figured this would do the trick. Besides, even at 15 I knew that no sane person can fairly judge anything without familiarizing themselves with it first, so until I actually watched it, I was exempt from criticizing it. So, I threw up my hands and said "Fuck it" (even at 15, I had a potty mouth) and prepared myself for unapologetic sappiness.

Cut to me a little over 2 hours later, laying on my bed and sobbing into a pillow. I already knew what was going to happen even before I started watching it, I had already seen the ending long before then, and I thought I had prepared myself for the uber-happiness I was witnessing. What I HADN'T done was take everything that happened prior to the ending, into account: that damn Jimmy Stewart made me give a rat's ass about George Bailey and his effect on the people around him, the events of his life, and his eventual reward, led to me become an emotional, incoherrent, blood-shot wreck. In other words, I liked it.

If you haven't ever seen it, and have avoided it because you think it's uncool and corny, you need to be more open minded. It is corny, very much so, but as for uncool, there's a few thing you should take into consideration before you judge too harshly.

Dalton Trumbo, Dorothy Parker, and Clifford Odets all did uncredited work on the script. That's cool.

The film was labeled "subversive" by the FBI, due to it's political statements about post-WWII society and was also deemed communist propaganda because of the film's stance in reference to the common man up against big business, and Frank Capra's association with left-wing organizations. That's also cool.

The scene at the dance, when George and Mary are doing the Charleston: that guy that opens up the pool? That's the guy who played Alfalfa on the Little Rascals, and by definition, any movie that features someone who was brutally murdered is very cool...You know, if you're twisted like I am.

I realize that no one actually watches the full length films that I post: it's takes up too much time, not to mention it's a bit of a strain to watch something that's about 5x5 inches in size. I post them because it's fun, not because I expect anyone to watch them. That being said, I still don't expect anyone to watch this on the computer, but I DO recommend that if you've never seen this, that you catch it when it's on tv, or go out and rent it: Occasionally, even the most jaded among us need something to warm our hearts, and what better time is there to do that, than during the holidays?

I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness-"When You Go Out"

RIP Peter

The Breeders

I will try and get a new post up this evening (one of those with words and a topic and such). I'd do it now, but I'm so tired that I'm having trouble stringing coherent sentences together.

Cakes. Why these snow globes?

See what I mean?

Tokyo Police Club-"Shoulders and Arms"

Calexico

Weird/Cute/Great

Very short, 10 minute Saturday movie today. I think that until Christmas, I will post nothing but holiday-related clips on saturdays, because although I have a nasty habit of bitching about Christmas and everything that it entails, in reality I love it. I guess I'm just a big kid, because the lights, the decorations, the movies, the presents, the good cheer, Santy Claus-I dig all that shit. Don't tell nobody.

I know that you're looking at the still thinking "I know what it is, so I'm not going to watch it." Well, you couldn't be more....Half wrong. It is that, but only visually. The voices are those of the cast of Scrubs, and they do not adhere to the original script. I think I've only ever seen maybe one episode of Scrubs, but after this, I may have to add it to my tv viewing schedule. I probably won't, but this clip is still very cute. Give it a chance, won't you? Thank you and good day.

Stereophonics-"Maybe Tomorrow"

Harper's Bizarre

I haven't posted a Harper-centric music post in a few weeks, but it's not because she's gotten lax in her listening habits-oh no, no, no. See, about two weeks ago, she found a CD in her room that she forgot she had, and she listened to it CONSTANTLY for awhile. What's the song on this CD that she loves oh-so-very much? Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer.

I have posted some terrible things on this blog-that photo of those 3 whores probably being the worst of it-but I draw the line at the most evil of songs. I am many things, but overly cruel I am not. Besides, posting it would mean that I would have to check and make sure that the song worked, which means I would have to hear at least part of it, and there is no way in hell I would voluntarily do that. As a matter of fact, I've been making her listen to it with the headphones on to protect my ears. So, you can rest easy.

Anyway, she finally decided to move on, and is currently under the thrall of the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack. Before you ask, Yes, I do own the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack: I have a healthy appreciation for almost all genres of music (not ALL, though. There are some things I flat-out refuse to listen to. But that's a whole other post), and I've tried to pass that on to my offspring. Unfortunately, that's probably what led her to listen to that damn Grandma song for 11 days straight, but you have to take the good with the bad, I guess. Variety: it's the spice-and poison-of life.

And just because I feel like it, here's MY favorite song off the same CD. I have no idea why I like this song, but I do-accept it, and move on.

Knew Your Father, I Did

Prepare yourselves-this is one of those posts where I go on about how I won't be posting for awhile. Like most of the other times I do this, I'll throw up some form of media to tide you over until I return-I'm good like that.

So, um, yes, I'm not going to be posting very often. I have this thing I started yesterday, and my time to do shit I want to do is all kinds of limited. I haven't gotten a new job-JOB yet, not exactly, although I AM getting paid for it, albeit very little (and the first one of you who says the word "Prostitution" is going to get stabbed through the internet). It's complicated and weird and actually very, very boring. So boring-I swear to God, my brain is going to be a worthless puddle of soup before the end of the year. More so.

I will attempt to throw up at least one post a day, although for a couple of weeks, it may not be anything more than a song or a video. I'll probably get in a couple of long-winded something-or-others up on the weekends, though, so you've got that to look forward to. Actually, it won't be much different than it is now, I guess. Huh. Forget I said anything.

PS-the thing-a-ma-bob I'm posting is an MST3k short, Mr. B Natural. It's the story of a freakish androgynous woman who stalks and harasses a little boy until he has to become institutionalized. Or takes up a musical instrument; I think the mental hospital came later, they just left it out. Watch it: It's horrifying and hilarious (and short). Plus it has Joel, who, as we all know, is 10,000,000,000,000 times better than Mike. At least all the SANE people know that.


Oh, yes I DID say that. Heh heh.

Elbow?

I finally regained control of my blog, so I thought I'd toss up a new post. No real reason for this post, except Sissy is just one of the sweetest people in the history of ever, and it always freaks me out to see a reference to my hometown in a national article-it doesn't happen very often, trust me.

WEST WINDSOR, N.J. - Academy Award-winning actress Sissy Spacek celebrated strong and independent women during a speech at a conference here on women's health issues.

"I love women — they're strong, they're independent," Spacek said Saturday at the conference, sponsored by Princeton HealthCare System."I think I've always been drawn to ordinary women with ordinary strengths and frailties, just stumbling into enlightenment," said Spacek, in comments reported by The Times of Trenton for Sunday's newspapers.

Over the years, Spacek has been nominated six times for an Academy Award, and won the award for best actress for her 1980 role as country music icon Loretta Lynn in "Coal Miner's Daughter."

Some of her other notable movies include "Carrie" (1976) and "In the Bedroom" (2001).

Recent films from 2005 include "North Country" and "The Ring Two."

Spacek said Saturday that she had to overcome considerable odds as a girl from Quitman, Texas, when she came to New York with dreams of becoming a musician, eventually finding acting work. She said a school yard friend years ago in Texas told her she would magically turn into a boy if she was able to magically plant a peck on her funny bone — an impossible task.

"All my life I spent trying to prove that girls can do anything boys can do — and then I had a baby," Spacek said. "I stopped trying to kiss my elbows after that."

Spacek said she shies away from celebrity culture, and has a happy life living with her husband and two daughters on a Virginia horse farm. "I always felt that if you want to play real people in movies and be convincing, you've got to live real life and have real experiences," Spacek said.

"No matter how far we come, we're all still just looking for 'normal,'" she said.


Yahoo News

90s Nostalgia (Since I Can't Post Anything That Has Text)