Wake me up before you go-go, and remember to wear sunscreen, m'love

I got a grin from reading this UK tabloid article about singer George Michael's recent drug-related arrest. Not because I wish any bad luck upon the former Wham! heartthrob (although I always did fancy Andrew more), but because of these excerpts (emphasis added):

"George was booked in under his real name Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou. Like anyone else arrested, he had a mugshot taken and had to supply fingerprint samples and a DNA swab taken from his mouth. That will be stored on the National Police database. The arrest of the star will alarm family, friends and fans."

"George has admitted smoking cannabis heavily in the past to beat depression and to gain inspiration for his music. But the circumstances of his arrest yesterday will fuel fears for his physical and mental health."

I've never read a tabloid piece written in the voice of a prescient, nervous, old maid auntie before. Kinda sweet.

Buzz clip of the week

I stumbled across a fun "mom and pop" pop band based in San Francisco, CA thanks to KCRW radio (again). This time it was via Gary Calamar's "Open Road" show. They're called Mates of State and, so far, my favorite song of theirs is "Goods" from their All Day EP. It's sweet, sweet ear candy that's begging to be used in a VW commercial.

Here's a funky fresh homemade video for the song featuring the sickest moves to ever cut a studio apartment's rug. Hopefully they won't mind that I swiped their screen grab (see photo) as enticement for you to click.

If you can't watch, read.

I thought about seeing The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada this weekend, but ran out of time. Still, the film was able to provide me with some entertainment. When I dialed 777-FILM to find out when it was playing, I almost dropped the phone as a direct result of the hilarity produced by Mr. Moviefone's pronunciation of the title. Awesome.

In other news, I started reading Joan Didion's Play It As It Lays. She is quickly becoming my new favorite writer. So seemingly disillusioned, detached and dry, yet able to cut to the quick with intelligent, exposed-nerve-sensitive insight into the human condition.

From the first page of the novel:

"What makes Iago evil? some people ask. I never ask.

"Another example, one which springs to mind because Mrs. Burnstein saw a pygmy rattler in the artichoke garden this morning and has been intractable since: I never ask about snakes. Why should Shalimar attract kraits. Why should a coral snake need two glands of neurotoxic poison to survive while a king snake, so similarly marked, needs none. Where is the Darwinian logic there. You might ask that. I never would, not any more. I recall an incident reported not long ago in the Los Angeles Herald-Examiner. Two honeymooners, natives of Detroit, found dead in their Scout camper near Boca Raton, a coral snake coiled in the thermal blanket. Why? Unless you are prepared to take the long view, there is no satisfactory 'answer' to such questions."

Dubious over Dubai deal

Below are some quotes from an AP article by Ted Bridis. I've added the boldface sarcasm.

What's left to outsource? How about the presidency itself?

"Under the arrangement, UAE-owned Dubai Ports World would control significant operations at six U.S. ports. Lawmakers in Congress and some governors and mayors worry that having a company controlled by an Arab state responsible for port operations would open opportunities for terrorist penetration of an already porous defense."

You say "inconsistent," Dubya's puppetmasters say "investment."

"The announcement of a delay came amid a persistent political furor over the business deal, otherwise expected to be completed in early March. Republicans and Democrats alike have threatened to introduce legislation to block or delay the deal, citing unease over what they describe as inconsistent opposition to terrorism by the United Arab Emirates."

I ain't saying he's a gold digga...

"Bush has threatened to veto any such measures and forcefully defended the small but wealthy federation in the Persian Gulf as a vital ally."

Hey, think of it as a signing bonus.

"The White House noted the United Arab Emirates contributed $100 million to help victims of Hurricane Katrina just weeks before Dubai Ports sought approval for its business deal. It said the money was nearly four times as much as the administration received from all other countries combined, and said there was no connection between the money and the pending deal."

I smell yellowcake.

"At the first Senate oversight hearing since the controversy erupted, lawmakers challenged the adequacy of a classified intelligence assessment that played a crucial role assuring administration officials that the Dubai Ports deal was proper. The report, which is closely guarded, was put together during four weeks in November by analysts working under the U.S. director of national intelligence."

"Looking the other way, if it pays" is job 1.

"Sen. Carl Levin of Michigan, the top Democrat on the Senate Armed Services Committee, asked whether the intelligence report examined purported links between government officials in the UAE and Osama bin Laden before the September 2001 terror attacks."

"'I did not see that in the report,' said Robert Kimmitt, deputy secretary at the Treasury Department.'"

Hits and misdemeanors

With repeated comparisons flying around about Woody Allen's Match Point and Crimes and Misdemeanors, I finally decided to Netflix the latter to see what all the fuss was about. A similar set of plot points is shared by both films, although in Match Point it's established in a slow burn that reaches its critical mass late in the film. In Crimes and Misdemeanors, the stakes are raised and quenched quickly, leaving the rest of the film for Martin Landau's character to wrestle with the moral fallout.

While the heralded Match Point felt entirely (and alarming) un-Woody to me, Crimes and Misdemeanors boasts some of my favorite trademark Allen touches--including his hilarious, neurotic schtick. This time he takes the B storyline, playing as a struggling documentary filmmaker who is pursuing a TV producer (Mia Farrow).

While I'm starting to wonder if Woody created the slickly enjoyable, but ultimately (I'm betting) forgettable Match Point just to flirt with the luminous Scarlett J., Crimes and Misdemeanors has some meat to it.

Landau's character's childhood flashbacks serve as flying buttresses supporting the movie's morality theme, as rabbis discuss questions such as "What holds us to moral standards if we don't believe a 'higher authority' exists?" Also stirring are inserted interview clips from a documentary Woody's character is making about an eccentric philosopher (e.g., "Isn't it odd that what we seek in romantic relationships is to repeat our childhood drama while simultaneously erasing it?").

Compared to the glimmering gloss of Match Point, Crimes and Misdemeanors feels dark, creaky and staid, but I prefer the earlier film for both its execution and eloquence.

On a lighter note, my favorite line from Crimes and Misdemeanors comes when Woody confesses to Mia that he plagarized his magnificent love letter to her by cribbing James Joyce's writing:

"You must've wondered why the references to Dublin."

Such well-crafted wit. That's my Woodman.

Hindsight vs. foresight

Last night's fortune cookie read: "You may attend a party where strange customs prevail." Seems to tie in nicely with the events of last Friday night, so that means it was a hindsight cookie.

I thought about the "Hi. You'll do." entry after I wrote it, amused at the thought that the guy behind it wasn't aware his dirty laundry was being aired. This lead me to the thought: "I won't snog you, but I'll blog you."

***

Whaddaya know, Madonna's riding my current train of thought (quote from a recent Harpers & Queen interview):

"The world is full of distractions and tinsel and things that constantly distract us from looking inward."

Hi. You'll Do.

Have you seen my ass? I'm asking, because it's been M.I.A. since I flirted it off on Friday night. I'd forgotten how much fun a playfully innocent engagement with the opposite sex could be until an unexpected opportunity presented itself in the form of a (very cute) co-worker's buddy at an after-hours happy hour at my place of employment. He was attractive, only 32 and had all the tell-tale signs of a player, so it was strictly recreational flirting in nature. But a hella lot of fun, nevertheless.

After some chatting over his Tecate and my margarita-detox water, he requested a tour of the building in which I work. It had all the earmarks of a thinly veiled request for some alone time, so I wasn't surprised or alarmed when he kept favoring dark corners of the office and attempted to besame mucho. Don't worry, I was a tower of strength. I fended him off in every dimly lit cubicle corner and shadowed conference room. I was buzzed enough to find his overt advances charming instead of rude, but sober enough to keep a dismissive giggle and stiff elbow at the ready.

After a few pauses in the tour for him to inquire as to why I was rejecting his advances, he asked that we "hug it off" (evidently a Dr. Phil-esque way of dispelling any bad mojo or misunderstandings). I indulged him in a hug. Or two. Or five. But that's where I drew the line. OK. A little slow-dancing went down. But still. Since he was wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with a message in type that is the title of this post, I knew not to take his repeated "you're so adorable" pronouncements too much to heart.

Don't get me wrong. I ate it up. Just at a safe distance (emotional and physical). But I do have to say it was a nice reminder that there are few things as heady and sweet as cracking wise with an embraceably sarcastic (and very cute) bloke, although he be many years my junior. Love it, mean it.

Apply logic and common sense liberally

"Every time you treat an Iraqi disrespectfully, you are working for the enemy."
- Col. H.R. McMaster

Finally, a voice of reason from the front lines in Iraq. McMaster has taken great care to train his 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment to fight the insurgency with some consideration and respect for the citizens of the country the U.S. has invaded. His soldiers learn the language basics and some even live among the people--hearing the gunshots and losing their electricity when the Iraqis do. His regiment is being held up as an example for other regiments. Here is the full story.

***

And another voice of reason in the blogosphere as Glenn Greenwald shines a klieg light on the jaw-droppingly warped world view of Bush apologists/angry neo-cons in this brilliant post.

Here's an excerpt:

"Indeed, as many Bush followers themselves admit, the central belief of the Bush follower's 'conservatism' is no longer one that ascribes to a limited federal government -- but is precisely that there ought to be no limits on the powers claimed by Bush precisely because we trust him, and we trust in him absolutely. He wants to protect us and do good. He is not our enemy but our protector. And there is no reason to entertain suspicions or distrust of him or his motives because he is Good.

"We need no oversight of the Federal Government’s eavesdropping powers because we trust Bush to eavesdrop in secret for the Good. We need no judicial review of Bush’s decrees regarding who is an 'enemy combatant' and who can be detained indefinitely with no due process because we trust Bush to know who is bad and who deserves this. We need no restraints from Congress on Bush’s ability to exercise war powers, even against American citizens on U.S. soil, because we trust Bush to exercise these powers for our own good.

"The blind faith placed in the Federal Government, and particularly in our Commander-in-Chief, by the contemporary 'conservative' is the very opposite of all that which conservatism has stood for for the last four decades. The anti-government ethos espoused by Barry Goldwater and even Ronald Reagan is wholly unrecognizable in Bush followers, who – at least thus far – have discovered no limits on the powers that ought to be vested in George Bush to enable him to do good on behalf of all of us."

Found via Ryan.

The man, the myth

It's been a couple of years since I've met a member of my "online entourage" (people who I read/people who read me) in person, so I was a little nervous (in a good way) about the opportunity for face time with the benevolent Dave Herrera.

Sometime 2001-ish, in one of those "isn't the Internet something" moments, Dave was doing an online search for the lyrics to the beautiful Rosie Thomas song called "Wedding Day." I had happened to post the lyrics in one of my journal entries, since I loved the sentiment of the song. Dave clicked on a link to my journal that the search engine served up, started reading, and, sometime later, wrote me a really cool e-mail telling me that he enjoyed my writing and that I cracked him up. I remember his e-mail came at a perfect time, because I'd been feeling down and uninspired. Then this generous compliment shows up in my in-box serendipitously. Dude! Sweet.

Then Dave turned into a kind of mentor for me, first giving me a chance to write a monthly column for the online magazine he founded. Months later, he kindly guided me through scribing the occasional music review for his hometown fishwrap. All along, he's been so supportive and just g'damn nice--not to mention the fact he gives me insider tips on new music. By chance this month, a story on a breaking band brought him to L.A. It just seemed silly not to break bread together.

We'd decided on Barney's Beanery, since Dave appreciates the basics. It's dive-y, plus has the street cred of having been the old pool-shooting spot of none other than Johnny Depp (circa 21 Jump Street). I beat Dave there and accidently struck up a conversation with an odd woman in a straw hat and almost-straw-looking faux cornrows. She spoke with an accent that sounded vaguely Parisian, although she said she was Persian. I asked if she was an artist. She told me she was an alcoholic. Fortunately, Dave's cab dropped him off shortly after. He'd described what he looked like to help me spot him: shaved head and a black Dickies jacket, but, knowing how easy-going he is from his conversational e-mail style, I was surprised at how bad-ass he looked.

Since it had been awhile since I'd met a journal peep, I'd forgotten what an odd feeling it is to have someone who I've never met know so much about me. (I do go on online.) There's a very entertaining aspect to bringing up an incident that's happened to me and having someone say, "Oh, yeah. I read about that in your journal." It's a real conversational time-saver, let me tell you.

Since time was short on his trip, it worked out that he already knew my back story. That gave me a chance to find out about how he became a self-made journalist with impressive career prescience, an encyclopedic knowledge of music (as well as an unquenchable thirst for undiscovered artists) and all kinds of common sense. The common sense helped him pick the perfect partner in his wife and helps him keep the good advice flowing on tap to his two kids. I especially enjoyed the dating advice he recently gave to his daughter: "No guy is worth your tears. But the rare guys who are worth your tears won't make you cry." I've since shared that advice with a couple of single girlfriends of mine and they nod, wide-eyed at the wisdom.

Bad-ass exterior. Good guy interior. Solid citizen. Creative denizen. The world needs more Dave Herrera's. That's for damn sure.

24-hour self-centered people

Movie of the week (at least for me, if not TV): Michael Winterbottom's Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story. It's a lark. The suddenly handsome (good haircut, that) Steve Coogan is at the top of his game and his tooth-obsessed co-lead Rob Brydon is spot-on hilarious. As a film based on a famously "unfilmable" novel, Tristram Shandy has some fun (and gives itself some leeway) with the movie-within-a-movie device. When it flounders, it makes fun of itself for floundering. While this relieves some discomfort, overall the film is wobbly. I say, wait for the DVD and you'll get a hearty laugh. High points include the refreshingly real Jennie vs. Jenny subplot, the veddy witty dialogue, the brilliant send-ups of self-involved egomaniacs (some employed by the film industry, some not), the dreamy-even-when-knackered Jeremy Northam and the closing credits exchange about De Niro. It's a little Woody Allen, a little Monty Python and a little Charlie Kaufmann. Not a bad bunch of geezers to be rubbing artistic elbows with, innit?

***

I wanted to make a joke about Cheney's shooting incident, but The Washington Times writer Joel Achenbach saved me the trouble in this peppered post.

Neener neener

Today there was a typo in The New York Times. In a headline. On the front page. Above the fold. Far left column.

"Warning Urged on Stimulants Like Ritalin" was supposed to be the headline (as it appears in the online edition here).

The print edition headline read:

Warning Uged on Stimulants Like Ritalin

Maybe NYT proofreaders should be uged to use more stimulants, 'cause whatever they're taking isn't cutting it.

I give Manderlay an "A"

This weekend's movie outing: Manderlay, the newest offering from my favorite director--Lars von Trier. Sadly, it got a score of 39 on Metacritic.com. Entertainment Weekly gave it an "F." Perhaps people are just not ready to be pulled by their collars until they look at some ugly realities. Perhaps the playhouse starkness of the production doesn't sit well with CGI-spoiled movie-goers. At least The Onion A.V. Club's Scott Tobias gets it, even though he graded it "B-." In the plus column, noted von Trier disliker Ryan gave it a "B."

Now, I don't want to further condemn this movie by calling it "important," but it certainly is the "i" word. Since I consider its prequel Dogville to be an unmitigated masterpiece with great social and political impact, Manderlay had a tough act to follow. While lacking Nicole Kidman's steely strength, Bryce Dallas Howard fits this manifestation of the lead character Grace with necessary altruistic naivete. (As Tobias points out, the character transition from idealistic to jaded in Dogville to idealistic again in Manderlay is confusing. Better to think of them as two different dames.) The sequel's story is less intricate and satisfying than that of its predecessor, but still stands head and shoulders above other cinematic (and live theater) offerings of the last few years/decades. It may be heavy-handed at times. It may be cutting and cruel. But it is clear-eyed throughout and often, surprisingly, funny (in a cynical way, of course).

Much is made of the fact that von Trier has never been to America. How dare he, grumble his critics, take potshots at our nation from a distance? I find this argument ridiculous. Walking our streets or tasting our local dishes is not going to change the fact that he is correctly and truthfully calling us on our shit. Like my dad said, "Can't a scientist discuss Mars even though he's never been?" Damn straight. Our nation has left its calling cards all over the world. Doesn't take a road trip across America to see what our good works and deadly mistakes have wrought globally.

At face value, the film is an examination of slavery. It was inspired by the story of an American plantation's slaves who refused to be freed after the abolition. When their former owners insisted they seek new lives under the law, the slaves slayed the owners and attempted to return to life as normal on the plantation.

The second layer of storytelling here (and in Dogville) is the examination of the most self-heralded U.S. export: democracy. Democracy delivered to your door, regardless of cost, regardless of bloodshed, regardless of existing cultural values and traditions. Democracy delivered at gunpoint, when necessary. This not so subtle allegory is slyly highlighted in the movie poster tagline: "Liberation. Whether they want it or not."

Pouring fuel on the "anti-American" fire, von Trier ends both films with "slide shows" of startling still images of the ugly underbelly of the United States. The poor, the homeless, the lynched, the assassinated. Only adding shots of Hurricane Katrina victims huddled in their own waste could've made von Trier's message more timely.

Still not sold? Maybe I'll try this angle: If you care at all about the world, see Dogville. If you want to watch a dog playing basketball, see Air Bud.* If you want to see a movie that makes you walk out wanting to change your life and change the world (which it did for me), see Manderlay. If you want to see J-lo get a pie in the face, see Monster-in-Law (something tells me EW only gave that one a "D," at worst).

If you don't care to see either offering in von Trier's almost-a-trilogy, I guess it's like Jack Nicholson's character in A Few Good Men said: "You can't handle the truth." Too bad, because word on the street is that it can set us free.

*Thanks for the joke, Damian.

Project Awesome

I'm addicted to a TV show. It's been awhile since that happened. I mean, addicted to the point of buying show merchandise and rewatching episodes and listening to podcasts of the show "mentor" Tim Gunn (free on iTunes!). And needing to relive it over e-mail with my homie who got me hooked in the first place. And discussing it with a couple other fans at work. What is this ungraven image that I'm worshipping? Project Runway, the Bravo show where young designers compete weekly to create the winning garment that will wow the fashion icon-ish judges and host Heidi, wife of Seal, Klum.

It's crazy entertaining pour moi, because it's about clothes and drama queens and creativity on a deadline. I find myself at a loss for words in attempting to convey the kitschy joy this show brings me, but this FourFour fellow named Rick does an amazing job in his blog, complete with clips, quotes and sound bites--like MP3 files of my favorite part of the show, when the egotistical Santino does his hilarious impression of Tim Gunn's voice.

Plus, they have, like, really neato challenges, like having to make a dress out of leaves and the like. Or having to make an outfit by deconstructing whatever they wore to the studio today (the attached pic is of an outfit Santino made out of his treasured vintage leather jacket).

And then there are the personalities. Like (the recently cut) Andrae who broke down during the runway judging while blaming the weaknesses in his design on being "emotionally bedraggled." I mean, c'mon. Reality-based shows are not usually known for the impressive vocabularies of their contestants.

Speaking of vocabularies, Tim Gunn has an impressive one, although it's not represented in my favorite quote of the week from his Episode 9 podcast:

"I mean, I have to tell you. I'm a sucker for a topiary. So by definition, Andrae had me seduced."

I can say the same about Project Runway. You had me at heliotrope organza.