I've decided to concede defeat while still clinging to my rage re: the overwhelmingly large and maddeningly self-congratulatory viewership of Planet Earth. This has come after 2 recent developments:
1. Oprah's Green Episode featured a woman who has begun living more eco-friendly because of Planet Earth. *Trite.* Apparently a polar bear resigned himself to death after being unable to swim the vast miles between the few icebergs that haven't melted due to global warming. Okay, that's sad. It makes me glad I don't watch that shit. I still have beef with nature shows for not letting their cameramen intervene when cute animals are dying. That's just unAmerican.
Said woman (who described herself as going "mint green," gag me) had no other reason for being a guest on the show. She wasn't a grocery bag craft expert or anything. She just came on a TV SHOW to relay a story she saw on ANOTHER TV SHOW. This is the power that Planet Earth wields. I'm surprised Gilmore Girls hasn't referenced it yet. Maybe they realize that Rory's intellectualism would suggest she's seen more than 1 nature program and would therefore be beyond the talons of the Planet Earth mania. I so respect that show more now.
2. Bush is actually introducing legislation to call greenhouse gases "pollutants" and limit their emissions. This unlikely embrace of *science* and reality is tantamount to his creation-addled brain suddenly accepting evolution as one of those fact thingees. It can't be the result of research and study and THINKING, therefore I can only attribute this shift to Planet Earth. You KNOW Bush watches that shit
As the 4th Law of the Infinite dictates, anything that Oprah and Bush agree on must be so, and consequently I will relent. Besides, an unexpected byproduct of both developments is that Planet Earth (the planet) may actually benefit.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Were there Statues at the Night Club?
This weekend, in an attempt to rally from a boy crisis, I abused some substances and sat down to watch the film version of Twelfth Night. Can anyone (of the 3 that are reading) believe that "twelfth" has only vowel? It basically sounds like phlegmy noise, which I picture having a lot of vowels. Although, look how many consonants "phlegmy" has. And "pbbbbt," the recognized spelling of a phlegmy noise (sometimes referred to as a "raspberry, though not by me) has no vowels. Huh, I must be wrong.
Anyway, Twelfth Night (the film) is terrible. I had forgotten this. I wanted so much for it to be good. Shakespeare set in Croatia (?!) and reimagined in the Victorian era, with not one but TWO romances, and Ben Kingsley singing a cool song about wind and rain! Win, win, win... win! Well, I forgot that in one romance the guy is played by a woman, pretty much sucking the sexual tension out of it for me. Then in the OTHER she's dressed as a man and doesn't look pretty until the end credits, where she doesn't look pretty either but is at least dressed as a woman.
I'm not stupid, I know this is the plot of Twelfth (Pbbbt) Night, but I had forgotten that its purported function as a romantic comedy is rendered useless by it's mustachey woman kissing for anyone but John Stossel. So when, dejected, I turned it off, I was delighted to be met with the philosophically and metaphysically pregnant query, "Were there statues at the night club?"
Now, as I said, there were substances involved. But that phrase just tickled me so. You KNOW what kind of show you must be watching. (It was the Lifetime series "Blood Ties.") You KNOW it's a vampire detective show. Why else would anyone care about the STATUES? Or ANYTHING in a NIGHT CLUB? You know some nefarious demon is afoot turning inappropriately-clad ravers into stone! THAT, my friends, is no giddy Croat romp in romcom's clothing! And isn't "or What You Will" kind of like saying "or whatever"? Twelfth Night or Whatever? Hey, Lifetime isn't fucking around with any "Blood Ties or Whatever." (I know my quotations are totally random at this point.) They want to KNOW were there motherfucking STATUES in the motherfucking NIGHT CLUB. BAM. I'm not going to watch that show, because it sounds like crap. And it IS in fact crap. As sure as there are statues in the night club. Or What You Will.
Anyway, Twelfth Night (the film) is terrible. I had forgotten this. I wanted so much for it to be good. Shakespeare set in Croatia (?!) and reimagined in the Victorian era, with not one but TWO romances, and Ben Kingsley singing a cool song about wind and rain! Win, win, win... win! Well, I forgot that in one romance the guy is played by a woman, pretty much sucking the sexual tension out of it for me. Then in the OTHER she's dressed as a man and doesn't look pretty until the end credits, where she doesn't look pretty either but is at least dressed as a woman.
I'm not stupid, I know this is the plot of Twelfth (Pbbbt) Night, but I had forgotten that its purported function as a romantic comedy is rendered useless by it's mustachey woman kissing for anyone but John Stossel. So when, dejected, I turned it off, I was delighted to be met with the philosophically and metaphysically pregnant query, "Were there statues at the night club?"
Now, as I said, there were substances involved. But that phrase just tickled me so. You KNOW what kind of show you must be watching. (It was the Lifetime series "Blood Ties.") You KNOW it's a vampire detective show. Why else would anyone care about the STATUES? Or ANYTHING in a NIGHT CLUB? You know some nefarious demon is afoot turning inappropriately-clad ravers into stone! THAT, my friends, is no giddy Croat romp in romcom's clothing! And isn't "or What You Will" kind of like saying "or whatever"? Twelfth Night or Whatever? Hey, Lifetime isn't fucking around with any "Blood Ties or Whatever." (I know my quotations are totally random at this point.) They want to KNOW were there motherfucking STATUES in the motherfucking NIGHT CLUB. BAM. I'm not going to watch that show, because it sounds like crap. And it IS in fact crap. As sure as there are statues in the night club. Or What You Will.
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