It has come to my attention that George Lucas decided that Return of the Jedi needed to become a film in which someone yells, "NOOOOOO!" for the BluRay release:
More regular posting coming soon ...
Showing posts with label 80s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 80s. Show all posts
05 September 2011
24 June 2010
Fear Me, Ordinary Mortals
And also? I am psychic.
Exhibit A: What's Next? Footloose?!?
Exhibit B: Yes, Footloose, starring some dude called Kenny
Exhibit A: What's Next? Footloose?!?
Exhibit B: Yes, Footloose, starring some dude called Kenny
16 January 2010
Christianity: You're Doing it Wrong
"Just like what Nazi Germany did to the Jews, so liberal America is now doing to the evangelical Christians. It's no different. It is the same thing. It is happening all over again. It is the Democratic Congress, the liberal-based media and the homosexuals who want to destroy the Christians. Wholesale abuse and discrimination and the worst bigotry directed toward any group in America today. More terrible than anything suffered by any minority in history."
I'm sorry, what was that you said? I couldn't hear you; I was busy smashing up Christian-owned businesses and burning churches.
Pat Robertson: Feel free to read up on Nazi Germany, slavery, pogroms, colonialism, reservations, segregation, crusades, tenant-farm clearances, and hate crimes. And STFU.
While you work on that, I'll be over here, thinking about Pat Benatar in an effort to avoid flying into a knee-jerk berzerker rage upon hearing the word "Pat."
I'm sorry, what was that you said? I couldn't hear you; I was busy smashing up Christian-owned businesses and burning churches.
Pat Robertson: Feel free to read up on Nazi Germany, slavery, pogroms, colonialism, reservations, segregation, crusades, tenant-farm clearances, and hate crimes. And STFU.
While you work on that, I'll be over here, thinking about Pat Benatar in an effort to avoid flying into a knee-jerk berzerker rage upon hearing the word "Pat."
08 August 2009
Psycho Phone, Qu'est-ce que c'est?
Imagine, if you will: you are sitting in a conference session next to one of your mentors, who happens to be the president of the organization holding the conference. Your phone is dutifully turned to silent. Then, out of nowhere, it ... rings. Loudly. Your ringtone. Which happens to be the Danny Elfman-composed theme to "Tales From the Crypt".
What do you do? What DO you do?
Here's what I did:
1. Picked up the phone
2. Dropped it on the floor
(UNH UNH was all I heard
Are we going to let the elevator bring us down
Oh no
Let's go crazy!)
3. Prince reenactment over, muttered "Jesus", and possibly also "Shit"
4. Turned volume down and noted it was already set to "sounds off"
5. Finally fumbled the phone off
Smooth.
My only saving grace is that my parents had the psychic impulse to call right between two talks. But that doesn't mean I didn't feel like an asshole. The mentor, fortunately, laughed and muttered, "Good timing." She rocks.
I preferred the psycho behavior of last week, when it was turning itself off and back on for no reason. Can't we go back to playing that game, phone? Please?
And don't think I didn't notice that you ate like three tweets today.
What do you do? What DO you do?
Here's what I did:
1. Picked up the phone
2. Dropped it on the floor
(UNH UNH was all I heard
Are we going to let the elevator bring us down
Oh no
Let's go crazy!)
3. Prince reenactment over, muttered "Jesus", and possibly also "Shit"
4. Turned volume down and noted it was already set to "sounds off"
5. Finally fumbled the phone off
Smooth.
My only saving grace is that my parents had the psychic impulse to call right between two talks. But that doesn't mean I didn't feel like an asshole. The mentor, fortunately, laughed and muttered, "Good timing." She rocks.
I preferred the psycho behavior of last week, when it was turning itself off and back on for no reason. Can't we go back to playing that game, phone? Please?
And don't think I didn't notice that you ate like three tweets today.
02 December 2008
Tag, I'm It!
I've been tagged! Thanks, Lisa!
The rules:
Link to the person who tagged you.
Post the rules on your blog.
Write six random things about yourself.
Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
Let the tagger know when your entry is up.
Here are six random things about me, in the order in which they occurred to me:
1. I adore really, really bad versions of Christmas carols. I blame a cassette tape my parents owned (or, indeed, probably still own), which we listened to endlessly on van trips to Steamboat Springs during the ski/Christmas season. It featured an instrumental version of, I think, "Oh Holy Night" apparently recorded by the Tinny Wavering Strings Ensemble, as well as a musical rendering of "Twas the Night Before Christmas" in which each phrase describing Santa Claus was rendered in a different US regional accent. The real show-stopper was the over-enthusiastic, fakey, corn-pone accent on "His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow!" As our mother has a beautiful and authentic Alabama accent, all three of us kids found it unbearably hilarious. This also relates to a van-borne trip as adults to see the city's best Christmas decorations -- frustrated by simultaneously attempting to drive, decipher a whimsically-scaled map printed by the newspaper, and discuss the route over the dulcet tones of the van's 1980s-era FM radio half-tuned to a station playing (terrible) Christmas music, my dad barked, to the rest of the family's hysterical amusement, "Will you turn that shit off? It just adds to the general irritation!"
2. The first concert I went to was Michael Jackson's Thriller tour in Denver. I think I was in fourth grade. The awesomeness began when my dad hopped the verge between the interstate and its frontage road in our van (for some reason, there's a lot about the van in this list so far) in order to get out of the traffic on I-25, and did not end until after first recess at school the next day, when I recounted the set list to my assembled friends. For a brief moment, I was ... kind of popular. Plus, it set off a show-going career that averaged one a week in my mid-twenties.
3. Two of my most prized possessions are black-and-white photos taken by my dad in the neighborhood of Princeton, NJ. I pulled them out of a collection of art pieces in my parents' basement because my it was my dad who first got me interested in photography, and we both went to Princeton. When I turned them over to put them into frames, I read the notes on date, exposure, and processing he had jotted on the back -- and found he had printed both on my birthdate, but three years before I was born! Spooky.
4. Every time I start a new knitting project, I think of my grandmother, who taught me how to cast on and do the basic stitches. During her final hospitalization, when she was drifting in and out of awareness, my mom showed her a pair of socks I'd made; a few days later, she reported to my aunt with perfect clarity, "Amy made socks on number one needles!" I didn't realize until then how much it meant to her that I had picked up her hobby.
5. My pet peeve surpassing all others is whistling. You will never see me fly into a seething rage faster than if someone is whistling in my vicinity. I have no idea why, but I can tell you that even typing about people whistling is putting me on edge.
6. I am kind of obsessed with Marilyn Monroe. Because of her looks, and the drugs, and the death, and the marriages, and the rumored affairs, and the media's (and public's) desire to fit her into a preconceived slot (dumb sexy blonde No. 357), a lot of people don't know how smart and talented she really was. For example: she wrote to her stepson with Arthur Miller about meeting Robert Kennedy for the first time, and said she asked him what his department was going to do for civil rights.
Tag, you're it (there are only three, because I don't know all that many blogs): Cari at Implosion Explosion, Stephanie at Dogs in the Moonlight (who probably won't respond, as she is in Madagascar), Maughta at Judge a Book by its Cover, and Stephanie at Natural/Artificial.
The rules:
Link to the person who tagged you.
Post the rules on your blog.
Write six random things about yourself.
Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
Let the tagger know when your entry is up.
Here are six random things about me, in the order in which they occurred to me:
1. I adore really, really bad versions of Christmas carols. I blame a cassette tape my parents owned (or, indeed, probably still own), which we listened to endlessly on van trips to Steamboat Springs during the ski/Christmas season. It featured an instrumental version of, I think, "Oh Holy Night" apparently recorded by the Tinny Wavering Strings Ensemble, as well as a musical rendering of "Twas the Night Before Christmas" in which each phrase describing Santa Claus was rendered in a different US regional accent. The real show-stopper was the over-enthusiastic, fakey, corn-pone accent on "His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow!" As our mother has a beautiful and authentic Alabama accent, all three of us kids found it unbearably hilarious. This also relates to a van-borne trip as adults to see the city's best Christmas decorations -- frustrated by simultaneously attempting to drive, decipher a whimsically-scaled map printed by the newspaper, and discuss the route over the dulcet tones of the van's 1980s-era FM radio half-tuned to a station playing (terrible) Christmas music, my dad barked, to the rest of the family's hysterical amusement, "Will you turn that shit off? It just adds to the general irritation!"
2. The first concert I went to was Michael Jackson's Thriller tour in Denver. I think I was in fourth grade. The awesomeness began when my dad hopped the verge between the interstate and its frontage road in our van (for some reason, there's a lot about the van in this list so far) in order to get out of the traffic on I-25, and did not end until after first recess at school the next day, when I recounted the set list to my assembled friends. For a brief moment, I was ... kind of popular. Plus, it set off a show-going career that averaged one a week in my mid-twenties.
3. Two of my most prized possessions are black-and-white photos taken by my dad in the neighborhood of Princeton, NJ. I pulled them out of a collection of art pieces in my parents' basement because my it was my dad who first got me interested in photography, and we both went to Princeton. When I turned them over to put them into frames, I read the notes on date, exposure, and processing he had jotted on the back -- and found he had printed both on my birthdate, but three years before I was born! Spooky.
4. Every time I start a new knitting project, I think of my grandmother, who taught me how to cast on and do the basic stitches. During her final hospitalization, when she was drifting in and out of awareness, my mom showed her a pair of socks I'd made; a few days later, she reported to my aunt with perfect clarity, "Amy made socks on number one needles!" I didn't realize until then how much it meant to her that I had picked up her hobby.
5. My pet peeve surpassing all others is whistling. You will never see me fly into a seething rage faster than if someone is whistling in my vicinity. I have no idea why, but I can tell you that even typing about people whistling is putting me on edge.
6. I am kind of obsessed with Marilyn Monroe. Because of her looks, and the drugs, and the death, and the marriages, and the rumored affairs, and the media's (and public's) desire to fit her into a preconceived slot (dumb sexy blonde No. 357), a lot of people don't know how smart and talented she really was. For example: she wrote to her stepson with Arthur Miller about meeting Robert Kennedy for the first time, and said she asked him what his department was going to do for civil rights.
Tag, you're it (there are only three, because I don't know all that many blogs): Cari at Implosion Explosion, Stephanie at Dogs in the Moonlight (who probably won't respond, as she is in Madagascar), Maughta at Judge a Book by its Cover, and Stephanie at Natural/Artificial.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
