The two Steves lived to shlepp another day on last night's "Dancing With the Stars" while former Bond girl, Denise Richards, was sent packing, in another dubious, viewer-induced outcome that further sank the show to the level of "America's Funniest Home Videos", host Tom Bergeron's other cringe-worthy turd-blossom of a project. To be fair, both Steves sustained dancing injuries in recent weeks, but their antics, while amusing at first, have quickly become yawn inducing, unfunny, and unwatchable. Denise Richards and last weeks castoff, Belinda Carlisle, can dance circles around these guys; the Steves even make last season's beloved Cloris Leachman look like Cyd Charisse on the dance floor. To be honest, I don't know why I'm complaining. I don't even like this show, but somehow I've gotten suckered into watching it, season after season. And who are the "voters" anyway, the ones who keep bringing back the likes of Steve Wosniak and Steve-O? One senses that they're the same people who made Seth Rogen a star, and worship at the shrine of frat boy smirkiness and mediocrity. So far, that naked shower guy from the "Sex and the City" movie is holding up in the number one position, and I hope he wins. He's hot, he's graceful, and he can actually dance.
Last night was also the final night of the "Jeopardy" championship and it was a nail-biter, as smarmy, know-it-all Larissa seemed poised to polish the floor with deadpan Dan and personable Aaron. As they headed into Final Jeopardy, Alex Trebek pursed his lips and asked which British king was the last of the same name NOT to be born on foreign soil--or something like that, it just flew over my head. Aaron correctly guessed that George was the answer, confirmed by Alex as "George II". Then, Dan prepared to show us his answer, and in my mind I was chainsmoking because that look on his face was not promising, and yet "George" popped up on his little screen, so I breathed a sigh of relief. "And how much did you wager, Dan?" Alex asked, as Dan revealed that he had wagered only $7,000, when he should have bet it all (something like $16,000) to come close to beating Larissa, who undoubtedly had the answer and wouldn't balk at betting everything (over $20,000). But somehow, Larissa didn't know the answer, and she hadn't bet everything (good thing for her), and Dan wound up winning the Jeopardy trophy and $250,000. Which all should have made me very happy, except that Larissa looked so downcast and like she was about to cry at any moment, so that any joy I would have savored was lost in an inexplicable wave of sympathy for a contestant that I had come to despise. Go figure.
And, of course, I saw bits and pieces of President Obama's press conference, and you know, I realize that reporters have to ask tough questions, and I realize that we are in desperate times, what with the robber barons and their sinking of our economy, the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, not to mention the brewing, festering, nasty cauldron of ill will certain Republicans are generating as they attempt to derail this young administration at every turn. And what about the atrocities happening right next door in Mexico, threatening at any moment to spill over into our own living rooms here in the USA? But, for god's sake, the President has been in office for 64 fucking days, do you hear that CNN, Wall Street Journal, Fox News Network, Republican pundits and senators? That's sixty-four fucking days. Say it aloud. Give him time. Stop being so pessimistic and overzealous and goddamned partisan. If you're truly concerned about the future of the country and not just posing and playing to a dwindling audience, give the President and his people time, cooperation, and a little bit of fucking respect. It's been said a million times, but face it, it did take Bush and his "team" slightly longer than 64 days to fuck things up royally, and he was actually given quite a lot of leeway in the first few years of his reign, thanks to 9/11.
I just read the comment from my friend, John, in Oklahoma City, that linked to a blog revealing that gay-baiting hatemonger Anita Bryant and her husband have set up offices in OKC's Bricktown district. Well, unfortunately that doesn't surprise me. As I've said before, Oklahoma provides the perfect environment for the cheerleaders of hate to thrive, and Bryant, being far too long out of the public eye (and having failed in her career), appears to have come home to rejuvenate her campaign against the gay community. I'm just not sure how much longer Bryant and her ilk will be successful. I sense a change coming in Oklahoma, even though it is late, and even though it is coming on the heels of greater change elsewhere. Anita Bryant gives a very public face to the foe that has demonized and attempted to destroy gays throughout recent history, and like the battle Bryant waged in Florida in the 1970's, it will almost surely play out again in Oklahoma in the 2000's. I hope that the gay community in Oklahoma is cohesive enough and strong enough to defeat Bryant and her many allies (a formidable presence represented by the numerous politico-religious groups ingrained in Oklahoma lawmaking). Oh, and just for the record, to anyone not familiar with J.C. Watts, former OU football star, Repub House flunkie, and aspiring Oklahoma governor: yes, he's African-American, but, make no mistake, he has more in common with GW Bush than he does with Barack Obama, and I include IQ in that assessment. Think about it.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
Ramblings From a Slow Monday
As I've often told friends through the years, I am the world's worst correspondent, which should explain why I have so recklessly neglected my blog for the past couple of months. It's not (a) that I don't have anything to say, or (b) that I'm flat out lazy these days when it comes to writing. Okay, (a) maybe I don't, and (b) maybe I am, but I am pledging, right here, right now, to do better. Honest. No more excuses.
So, what I have been doing for the last couple of months, in addition to not writing on my blog, is not working on my screenplays. The studly, sex-filled epic has stalled out after the fourth draft, so I've had to set that aside for the time being, until I can think of a way to rework it to my satisfaction. The other, about a young mother in peril during the Dust Bowl days in the Oklahoma/Texas Panhandle is in better shape, although completion of the third draft has not been forthcoming.
In essence, life has been happening and I have not deigned to spend time focusing on the things that I should be focusing on. Recently, my sister casually mentioned that she has ADD, a term that I immediately latched onto as the source of my own lack of focus. Of course, it isn't that, not in my case, anyway. It's never that simple, is it? There seems to be a lack of interest lately in the things that I've always loved doing, a general dissatisfaction encompassing everything, a feeling that I'm not where I thought I'd be when I reached this stage of my life. And in all honesty, that's probably the crux of it, the root of the problem, the knowledge that a large part of my life has passed by and I've lived it, even embraced some of it, without really ever understanding it or trying to make it count for something. And now that I'm here, at this certain place in my life, there's this underlying, paralyzing terror, this little voice screaming: What the fuck am I going to do now? Because, you know, it's a little late for me to be pondering what the fuck I'm going to do when I grow up. I'm there, at least in the sense that I'm no longer a kid; but I seem to have grown older without having really grown up. Which really sucks. The only thing I can think of to do is to move forward--I'm going to continue growing older anyway unless, of course, I die, so I'd really like to shake off this creative paralysis and get on with my professional life, and eventually achieve the American Dream. Okay, maybe not achieve the American Dream in terms of having a big house with a white picket fence, and 2.5 kids (how the fuck do they do that, anyway?), but that may not be the standard for American Dreamers anymore. At any rate, I've got to escape this inertia and just get on with it.
The above rambling aside, we went to see the film "Taken" over the weekend. Luc Besson was one of the writers so I expected there to be a lot of action, and I wasn't disappointed. "Taken" is immensely entertaining and instantly forgettable hogwash that, due to the talent involved, is classier and more involving than many films of its ilk. Liam Neeson is cast as the stalwart hero, a former CIA agent whose teenaged daughter (Maggie Grace) is kidnapped by Albanian thugs while on vacation in Paris. Once Neeson is on the bad guys' trail, he becomes a single-minded, deadly nemesis who will stop at nothing to secure the release of his daughter. It's all shaky camerawork filmed in hypervision (ala "The Bourne Ultimatum") an indication that the cameramen need to be in better physical shape than the actors. Neeson's a good performer, but "Taken" does little to stretch his acting chops, or enhance his resume; on the other hand, it's a perfectly respectable, by-the-numbers thriller that he needn't cringe at when the film pops up on TNT--which it inevitably will.
There's a play at the Caldwell Theatre (where I'm working part-time) called "Dangerous". It's a complete reworking of "Dangerous Liasons", with many (but not all) of the female roles rewritten as males, and set in Weimar Germany, as the Nazis are gaining a foothold. Michael McKeever, a local playwright, wrote the play and has done a fascinating job. "Dangerous" is funny, scary, suspenseful, heart-wrenching, and thought-provoking. There's also full frontal nudity (both male and female) and simulated sex, which always works for me (except in real life, where I'd prefer sex to be unsimulated if possible). Wynn Harmon, a great guy who recently played David Frost in the theater's recent production of "Frost/Nixon" is back on hand as one of the few genuinely nice characters in "Dangerous". A New York actor named David Rudd plays a cad named Alec, the sexual centerpiece of the show, and he's all that and then some! There's a sort of dominant sexuality that he projects that seems to leave his co-stars (and many audience members) woozy with desire. He's a fine actor, too! Actually, there's not a bad performance from any of the cast, and it's well worth the drive up to Boca to see it.
I flew out to visit my family a couple of weeks ago, and spent ten days in the Oklahoma Panhandle area. During that brief time, I was able to experience the gamut of all the unseemly weather that Oklahoma has to offer: tornadoes, hailstorms, dust storms, heat, and frigid cold. Weatherwise, Oklahoma is never boring. And I'll say this: if it weren't for an excruciatingly backasswards political climate there that fosters religious nutwings and high ranking government officials who espouse such "family values" as hate, intolerance, and plain, old ignorance for the masses, I wouldn't mind moving back. I adore being around my family, and miss them terribly, and I also miss the high plains desert surrounding their little town, the spectacular sunsets, and even the alarming weather changes. Alas, until the State of Oklahoma drums out the hatemongers, understands the wisdom of separating church from state, and hauls its ungainly self into the 21st Century--or at least the 20th--I'll have to settle for all-too-infrequent visits.
And, on a final note, speaking of hatemongers, I have two words: Rush Limbaugh. Somebody please take his fat, ugly ass out behind the barn and beat the shit out of him, will you? Please. Somebody? Anybody?
So, what I have been doing for the last couple of months, in addition to not writing on my blog, is not working on my screenplays. The studly, sex-filled epic has stalled out after the fourth draft, so I've had to set that aside for the time being, until I can think of a way to rework it to my satisfaction. The other, about a young mother in peril during the Dust Bowl days in the Oklahoma/Texas Panhandle is in better shape, although completion of the third draft has not been forthcoming.
In essence, life has been happening and I have not deigned to spend time focusing on the things that I should be focusing on. Recently, my sister casually mentioned that she has ADD, a term that I immediately latched onto as the source of my own lack of focus. Of course, it isn't that, not in my case, anyway. It's never that simple, is it? There seems to be a lack of interest lately in the things that I've always loved doing, a general dissatisfaction encompassing everything, a feeling that I'm not where I thought I'd be when I reached this stage of my life. And in all honesty, that's probably the crux of it, the root of the problem, the knowledge that a large part of my life has passed by and I've lived it, even embraced some of it, without really ever understanding it or trying to make it count for something. And now that I'm here, at this certain place in my life, there's this underlying, paralyzing terror, this little voice screaming: What the fuck am I going to do now? Because, you know, it's a little late for me to be pondering what the fuck I'm going to do when I grow up. I'm there, at least in the sense that I'm no longer a kid; but I seem to have grown older without having really grown up. Which really sucks. The only thing I can think of to do is to move forward--I'm going to continue growing older anyway unless, of course, I die, so I'd really like to shake off this creative paralysis and get on with my professional life, and eventually achieve the American Dream. Okay, maybe not achieve the American Dream in terms of having a big house with a white picket fence, and 2.5 kids (how the fuck do they do that, anyway?), but that may not be the standard for American Dreamers anymore. At any rate, I've got to escape this inertia and just get on with it.
The above rambling aside, we went to see the film "Taken" over the weekend. Luc Besson was one of the writers so I expected there to be a lot of action, and I wasn't disappointed. "Taken" is immensely entertaining and instantly forgettable hogwash that, due to the talent involved, is classier and more involving than many films of its ilk. Liam Neeson is cast as the stalwart hero, a former CIA agent whose teenaged daughter (Maggie Grace) is kidnapped by Albanian thugs while on vacation in Paris. Once Neeson is on the bad guys' trail, he becomes a single-minded, deadly nemesis who will stop at nothing to secure the release of his daughter. It's all shaky camerawork filmed in hypervision (ala "The Bourne Ultimatum") an indication that the cameramen need to be in better physical shape than the actors. Neeson's a good performer, but "Taken" does little to stretch his acting chops, or enhance his resume; on the other hand, it's a perfectly respectable, by-the-numbers thriller that he needn't cringe at when the film pops up on TNT--which it inevitably will.
There's a play at the Caldwell Theatre (where I'm working part-time) called "Dangerous". It's a complete reworking of "Dangerous Liasons", with many (but not all) of the female roles rewritten as males, and set in Weimar Germany, as the Nazis are gaining a foothold. Michael McKeever, a local playwright, wrote the play and has done a fascinating job. "Dangerous" is funny, scary, suspenseful, heart-wrenching, and thought-provoking. There's also full frontal nudity (both male and female) and simulated sex, which always works for me (except in real life, where I'd prefer sex to be unsimulated if possible). Wynn Harmon, a great guy who recently played David Frost in the theater's recent production of "Frost/Nixon" is back on hand as one of the few genuinely nice characters in "Dangerous". A New York actor named David Rudd plays a cad named Alec, the sexual centerpiece of the show, and he's all that and then some! There's a sort of dominant sexuality that he projects that seems to leave his co-stars (and many audience members) woozy with desire. He's a fine actor, too! Actually, there's not a bad performance from any of the cast, and it's well worth the drive up to Boca to see it.
I flew out to visit my family a couple of weeks ago, and spent ten days in the Oklahoma Panhandle area. During that brief time, I was able to experience the gamut of all the unseemly weather that Oklahoma has to offer: tornadoes, hailstorms, dust storms, heat, and frigid cold. Weatherwise, Oklahoma is never boring. And I'll say this: if it weren't for an excruciatingly backasswards political climate there that fosters religious nutwings and high ranking government officials who espouse such "family values" as hate, intolerance, and plain, old ignorance for the masses, I wouldn't mind moving back. I adore being around my family, and miss them terribly, and I also miss the high plains desert surrounding their little town, the spectacular sunsets, and even the alarming weather changes. Alas, until the State of Oklahoma drums out the hatemongers, understands the wisdom of separating church from state, and hauls its ungainly self into the 21st Century--or at least the 20th--I'll have to settle for all-too-infrequent visits.
And, on a final note, speaking of hatemongers, I have two words: Rush Limbaugh. Somebody please take his fat, ugly ass out behind the barn and beat the shit out of him, will you? Please. Somebody? Anybody?
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