A joust with Proust

That old saying about all work and no play making so-and-so a dull one is true. In other words, my OT at work and in life has been keeping me offline and outta thoughts to bloggify. Cue cricket chorus.

In lieu of fresh observations, movie reviews or funny anecdotes, I'll just answer the questions to the "Proust Questionnaire" that appears on the last page of every month's Vanity Fair magazine:

Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Jane Austen, because she liked to write and throw down on the wit tip.

Which living person do you most admire?
This may sound shallow, but Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert come to mind first. They are the clown jesters of American politics and are as courageous as they are hilarious.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Not speaking my mind enough.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Selfishness. I think Andrae in season 2 of Project Runway was right. Most of the world's ills can be traced back to someone being selfish.

What is your greatest fear?
I'm afraid to say.

What is your greatest extravagance?
Eating lunch out every day. My palate is as princessy as Paris Hilton. Maybe eating a peanut butter sandwich every day for a whole year in fourth grade has something to do with it.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Doing something creative, while those I love are safe and happy.

What is your favorite journey?
Any trip to New York City (so far).

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Conviction (see current U.S. administration).

On what occasion do you lie?
When it will spare someone's feelings (especially when hearing the truth won't help them).

What do you dislike most about your appearance?
Not being in shape.

Which living person do you most despise?
Do I have to pick one? I'd start with the neo-cons.

When and where were you happiest?
Probably during the "honeymoon stage" of my personal Vietnam (before it turned into a protracted romantic quagmire).

Which talent would you most like to have?
Film-making.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Be more ballsy.

If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?
That we'd live closer together.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Making and keeping good friends.

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
Probably some bird. A hummingbird would be cool.

If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be?
A fabulously wealthy philanthropist.

What is your most treasured possession?
Family and friends.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Being homeless.

What is your favorite occupation?
Writing.

What is your most marked characteristic?
Wanting to play fair.

Who are your favorite writers?
Jane Austen, Charles Dickens.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
The first one who comes to mind is Jackie Brown as played by Pam Grier in Quentin's film adaptation: a strong, sexy, smart soul.

Who are your heroes in real life?
My parents.

What is it that you most dislike?
When good people suffer.

What is your motto?
“Things could be worse."

Dennis and the Menace

I never thought much about Dennis Quaid, but after seeing him give an intelligent and funny interview on The Daily Show recently, I've decided he gets the prize for Man I Would Most Like to Have a Beer With. And I don't even like beer. Now I understand why Meg Ryan stuck by him during the wild-n-crazy years.

If his new political/American Idol spoof American Dreamz is as smart and charming as Quaid is, I'm dropping my Hamilton at the box office to see it.

***

I enjoyed reading georgia10's Daily Kos posting on the staffing shell game going on at the White House lately. Here's an excerpt:


"Have you ever been to the rodeo? No? Neither have I. But I suspect if I did, I'd see something that would resemble this presidency. Bush clings to his cabal of advisers like a cowboy on a bucking bull. He digs his heels in, holds on to his hat, gives it a kick, and rides the bull as it bucks left and right, up and down. There's lots of commotion, lots of dust flying in the air, but in the end, when the dust clears, you're left with a sweaty, panting cowboy sitting atop of the same bull, being cheered by the damn crowd for surviving it all.

"Use whatever metaphor you want. Bull, rearrange deck chairs on the Titanic, shuffling a rigged deck of cards. The fact is that the White House 'shake-up' is aimed at providing the media and the public an illusion of change. It's a convenient way to project a sense of self-reflection (not to mention a convenient way to get Rumsfeld's name out of the headlines, right?)

"The morning after, Rove is still Bush's top advisor (only now with more free time to play dirty politics), Rumsfeld is still our incompetent Secretary of Defense, failed Michael Chertoff is still head of Homeland Security, and Alberto Gonzales is still pushing the unitary executive theory over at the Department of Justice.

"For Bush, the more things (appear) to change, the more they remain the same."

My new hero

After reading all the hype about sexy-squinting, silver-stranded Anderson Cooper from CNN who was one of the first reporters to express outrage on-camera during the Katrina disaster, I finally caught an episode of his CNN show Anderson Cooper 360. I wasn't disappointed, as he filled in some of the blanks for me on the recent announcement that a group of retired generals had called for Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld to be ousted based on his failures in managing the war in Iraq, largely due to his stubbornness and unwillingness to take the advice of seasoned military men.

As the White House launches talking points in Rumsfeld's defense and tries to downplay the generals' criticism by saying these are six generals out of 8,000, it's important to note that two of the generals taking a stand were division commanders in Iraq. In other words, unlike Rummy, they know their armament from their elbows.

Here is an excerpt from the episode, taken from the show transcript posted online.

***

COOPER: Well, I asked three retired generals to talk about Rumsfeld.

Retired General John Batiste commanded the 1st Infantry Brigade in Iraq from 2004 until last year. He thinks Rumsfeld needs to go now. Retired Air Force General Don Shepperd and retired General Kevin Ryan say Rumsfeld doesn't have to resign. And, as you will see, that's not exactly a total vote of confidence.

They joined me, all, earlier.

(BEGIN VIDEOTAPE)

COOPER: General Batiste, now the White House is sending out talking points, how to effectively rebut your criticisms, some of the other generals. They say, look, Rumsfeld has met more than 100 times with military chiefs and commanders, and, sure, he's tough, but he listens. True?

MAJOR GENERAL JOHN BATISTE (RET.), U.S. ARMY: Anderson, as I have said several times now, our Secretary of Defense does not listen. He holds others in contempt. He dismisses advice. He has an opinion. And it doesn't matter, quite frankly, what other people think.

COOPER: And -- and to those who say, OK, so what, so his management style is -- is brusque; so he's got an attitude, as some have said; why does that matter, in your opinion?

BATISTE: You know, Anderson, I have worked for men much tougher than our SecDef, much more aggressive.

The difference is, they don't treat people with contempt. They are not dismissive. They understand teamwork. And they listen to good ideas. If you're not willing to listen to your subordinates, then, you end up with bad strategic decisions. You go to war with the wrong war plan. You end up with Abu Ghraib. You stand down the Iraqi military, which causes enormous problems.

COOPER: General Batiste, tell me, if you can, when you were on the ground in Iraq commanding troops, as you were for -- for quite some time, how did this filter down to -- to where you were, I mean, this -- this sense of the secretary of defense's arrogance, not listening? How -- I mean, how did you see that on the ground?

BATISTE: Anderson, we had great debate within the corps, within the multinational force Iraq, tremendous dialogue between commanders up and down.

And -- and, as you know, in the -- in the military, at some point, the discussion is stopped, and a decision is made. And you either execute the best idea you have ever heard, or you get out. I personally chose to retire on principle, so that you and I could be having this discussion right now.

***

In this appearance, retired Major General John Batiste pulled no punches and spoke with palpable conviction and unmistakeable sincerity. He is standing toe to toe with the White House to support our troops, risking his reputation. Plus, the way he says "SecDef" is totally hot. I heart you MajGen Batiste and I don't care who knows it.

Odd eggs

This year, the Easter Bunny brought me a basketful of interesting encounters.

The first was to take the form of a boba tea-serving 20-year-old with a microscopic soul patch on his pale chin. Our exchange went something like this:

Me: Do you have soy milk?

Soul Patch: Yep.

Me: Cool. Could I have a green tea with soy milk and boba?

Soul Patch: Sure.

At this point, Soul Patch walked over to the teahouse refrigerator and grabbed a carton of soy milk. Then he came back to the counter.

Soul Patch: Do you know the date today?

Me: Umm, no.

Soul Patch: (reaching for his cell phone) It's not June 7 is it? (flips cell phone open) Oh, no. Oh, June!

He smiles, relieved that the soy milk's expiration date is two months off. After he hands me my drink and takes my change, I drop fifty cents into the empty tip jar.

Soul Patch: (reacting to tip) Yeah! (pumps arm with enthuasiasm--sincere enthusiasm)

Realizing that my lonely tip meant that the other seven people in the joint hadn't bothered with a gratuity, I now understand his appreciation. I walk out wishing I'd put in a dollar.

***

Returning from a grocery run, I run into a 60-ish man--burly with a small, white gym towel around his neck--walking down my apartment building's driveway. He has evidently just come from an open house showing in one of the empty units. A woman who is apparently his bored wife is waiting in the driveway, her head slouched back against the driver's seat headrest of their station wagon.

Towel man: Do you live here?

Me: Yes.

Towel man: If I move in here, do we get to date?

Me: (sizing him up--threat factor: low to none) No. That's against the rules.

Towel man: Too bad. There's no point in me moving in now. Can you believe they wouldn't accept cash?

Me: Hmm, that's weird.

Towel man: (pulling what appears to be cash out of his pocket) They wouldn't take an $8 bill! (shows me a fake $8 bill with former President Clinton's visage on it)

Me: (charity laugh) Oh, brother.

Towel man: (thumbs through more bills and shows them to me, one by one) I know. And they wouldn't take this Mrs. Clinton one either. They did say they'd take Reagan, but wouldn't make change.

Me: (eyeing the faux $100,000 Reagan bill in his hand) Wow. Ridiculous.

Towel man: (dabs sweaty face with gym towel) What's your name?

Me: Nictate.

Towel man: My name is Pope Benedict. Are you "Sister Nictate"?

Me: OK.

Towel man: Then we're both virgins! (laughs heartily)

Me: (charity laugh)

Towel man: See? We're already having a great first date!

Me: (strained smile) OK, have a nice day.

Towel man: It is a nice day, since I met you. Goodbye!

Towel man walks to his waiting wife. I lug my groceries up the driveway, now laughing for real.

From the "Feel Good" file

I can't remember if I've already linked to Knitta, a.k.a. Knitta Please, a crew of ten chicks who cozy up to the coldest of urban elements by "tagging" light poles, street lamps and more with colorful bits of hand knits.

It's so Amelie and somehow very hope-inducing.

Speaking of hope, the late peace activist William Sloane Coffin had some great thoughts on the matter:

"I think that hope reflects the state of our soul rather than the circumstances that surround our lives. So hope is not the equivalent of optimism. So I’m always hopeful. Hope is about keeping the faith despite the evidence, so that the evidence has a chance of changing."

"Hope arouses, as nothing else can arouse, a passion for the possible."

Hollywood report

My new most anticipated film event of 2006 is Snakes on a Plane. The title leaves no room for confusion. Nor do stills like this.

And a Samuel L. Jackson sound bite seals the deal--rated "R" for language. (You have to enter your birthdate in their age verification window to get access to the sound file, but it's worth it.)

In other entertainment news, world-renowned cyclist Lance Armstrong, post break-up with Sheryl Crow, has made of point of stating he isn't planning to have a girlfriend for a looooong time. He's also been seen around town with an ever-changing cast of arm candy gals. Evidently, he's leaving behind the Tour de France for the Tour de Pants.

Lost in love, and they don't know much

I'm on a winning streak at the box office and I don't want it to end.

This week's offering was the lovely and amazing Friends with Money by writer/director Nicole Holofcener, who also created the lovely and amazing Walking and Talking and Lovely & Amazing.



The film is about four female friends approaching or just past the treacherous turning point age of 40, who are struggling with themselves, each other, the men in their lives and the unique urban challenges of life in affluent, present-day Los Angeles. Holofcener has an uncanny, laser-guided ability to glean heart-rending truths from the smallest moments of life. Her finely crafted dialogue and sensitive direction are a glory to behold.

Nathan Rabin expresses it well in this excerpt from his A.V. Club review:

"Holofcener possesses a genius for creating exquisitely realized characters who seem to have led full, rich, complicated lives before the film's first scene takes place, and will go on living complex, idiosyncratic existences long after they disappear from the screen."

And Holofcener's got a knack for picking just the right actors. Jennifer Aniston plays it admirably low-key as a directionless housekeeper. Catherine Keener and Joan Cusack give solid and sad-eyed performances. Francis McDormand is absolutely tremendous and anchors the emotional heart of the film as an angry, depressed and inexplicably discontented fashion designer who has a seemingly perfect life. Simon McBurney deserves a special shout-out for his terrific showing as a cashmere-loving and otherwise-loving husband to Francis.

In DVD news, I recently rented the foreign film Head-On by the award-winning, 32-year-old, Turkish/German writer/director Fatih Akin.



In Head-On, a down-on-his-luck club worker, played by the smoldering Birol Unel, is hospitalized after what appears to be an attempted suicide. In the mental ward, he is pursued by another suicidal patient played by the simply mesmerizing Sibel Kekilli. The story of their romance is a train wreck in the making, but it seduces with its dark energy. It's brutal and bruising to watch, but brilliant and beautiful to behold (a la Gaspar Noe's Irreversible).

Nictate, Esq.

Things I've learned from reading the current issue of Esquire magazine:

1. It takes 45 minutes to read the articles I'm interested in, which equals the exact amount of reading I need to distract me from the blinking numbers on the gym treadmill's LED screen.

2. Clueless, Rushmore, Heathers and Brick are smart stand-outs in the high school movie genre. (True dat. Double true.)

3. Rosario Dawson is super cute (knew that) and armed (news, that).

4. Wanda Sykes is funny everywhere except that sitcom she starred in. Here's her advice on how to make a woman happy:

"You can't make a woman happy. That's like trying to cure a fatal disease. The goal is to treat the symptoms, so you can comfortably live with the illness."

Tobacco vs. heroin

This was a movie-packed weekend, I tell you what. A movie a day. I was crazy with the movies. I couldn't turn around without seeing a movie. Movies coming out my ears.

With pleasant memories of Inside Man lodged in my brain, I walked into Thank You for Smoking not expecting too much. A couple of laughs. A little well-aimed anti-tobacco industry ammunition. I was ever-so-pleasantly surprised that the film held together from the first crackle of the cellophane wrap to the last sputter of glowing ash.

The storyline hummed along like a deep sea fishing line with a riled swordfish on the end, full of sly humor and devilish energy. Aaron Eckhart was perfection in his role of a lobbyist who wears moral ambiguity like a fine wool suit. Even sidetrips to a Hollywood mega-agency prove smile-inducing. Hell, even that obnoxious brunette kid from The O.C got some grins out of me. The political agenda set forth in Christopher Buckley's source novel was there throughout, but the story never dove into preachy exposition. All involved were hoisted on their own petards in a most delightful way. Kudos to director/writer Jason Reitman for crafting a doozy of a ride that nailed every detail down to the glorious opening title sequence.



Flush from two great cinematic experiences within 24 hours of each other, I felt I could do no wrong. I was somewhat right. There was nothing really wrong with the experiment in genre blending (film noir fast talk meets Ridgemont High by way of David Lynchville) that is Brick, but it does suffer from the condition that Inside Man and Thank You for Smoking cleverly avoid--the third act doldrums. A little tighter editing could've made this oddball diversion into an instant classic. Don't get me wrong, it's very clever, well-acted and rigged with little cherry bombs of visual and verbal humor. It's definitely worth seeing for the more adventurous movie-goers out there.

Former Third Rock from the Sun star Joseph Gordon-Levitt carries a lot of responsibility on his sherpa'd shoulders to make this film fly and he delivers. He is stoic, smart-ass and wise beyond his years as he slings the dense, jargon-dripping dialogue like a veteran diner cook handling hash. Director/writer Rian Johnson deserves a lot of credit for nursing terrific performances out of the whole youthful cast (with the exception of the femme fatale who I wanted to head-butt for most of the film).

There is a brief scene where JGL and his ex-lady love embrace behind a school building and the moment is jewel-like. It could've so easily skidded into afterschool special cheese, but it's simply lovely. Lukas Haas plays the caped and caned villain with delicious ennui. His moments in the film are the most Lynch-like in mood and art direction. Another shout-out should go to Noah Fleiss who plays the muscle behind the cape known as Tug. His scene with the rooster pitcher is worth the price of admission alone.

So, it's funny. The more I reminisce about this movie, the more I like it. I can definitely picture it showing up as a future regular on the midnight circuit, as nostalgic teens shout the esoteric slang back to the screen and dress up in lookalike costumes. Not a bad endorsement, after all. May I propose a toast?