I nearly had an orgasm the other day when, on Little Britain, Tom Baker introduced a sketch featuring Anthony Stewart Head playing the British Prime Minister by saying “Of course, it’s not really the Prime Minister, it’s just That Guy From Buffy.” I mean, Tom Baker–DOCTOR WHO!–mentioning BUFFY! It was like some beautiful crossover dream!
(Inescapable conclusion: I am a geek.)
Over breakfast this morning my sister said to me “I’ve noticed there’s an awful lot about divorce in the New Testament!” “Well, yes,” I replied, pseudo-knowledgeably, “It was a very hot issue back then, and of course they didn’t have iPods so they needed something to obsess about.”
And now I find this…et tu, Troubled Diva? iPods are quickly becoming one of those topics that instantly make my eyes glaze over; and yes, I’m sure I am just saying that because I Haven’t Got One Yet.
(I don’t know though, that U2 commercial, it’s gotta be all downhill from here…)
Hello everyone, thought I should show my face. My internet access was a bit restricted for a while (ie I was broke and it got cut off!) but don’t worry, I’m still alive. (I think by law I’m supposed to title a post like this “Don’t call it a comeback”, just as every post that refers to a previously mentioned topic should have “slight return” in parentheses after the title, but I’m a rebel so I don’t do things like that.)
I’ve been to Sydney where I saw my sister as the Countess in Figaro and caught up with some friends including this gentleman, also briefly to Adelaide for my grandmother’s 99th birthday where unfortunately I was sick the whole time and thus didn’t manage to catch up with this gentleman, and apart from that…well, the usual, really.
The past few days I’ve been watching La Dolce Vita and realising that it’s actually not one of my favourite movies after all, although that may be partly to do with the terrible Region 4 DVD that for all its pretentions to “letterboxing” actually chops a huge chunk off the original widescreen format (film bore ahoy!). Still, the ending remains beautiful (as is the case with all of Fellini’s films I’ve seen except 8 1/2) and I still love the breakup scene between Marcello Mastroianni (who is so hot in this film) and Anouk Aimée, sitting in the car with that huge what-the-fuck floodlight shining down on them. Structurally too, I think it’s brilliant–the one criticism I won’t accept is that it’s too long. But the actual people in the film, all those hipster ex-pats who sculpt or act or write poetry, are so screamingly tedious, which is a bit of a problem when the film is supposed to be demonstrating the irresistable seductive pull of bohemian decadence.
Moving on, this is my favourite k-punk post for quite a while, glorious stuff, especially the casual brush-off of the right’s favourite left-wing writer: “There may be something in Orwell’s tedious liberal moralizing miserabilism that had some relevance to the grim austerity of totalitarian states (I have my doubts), but there is little in 1984 that has any purchase in UK 2004.”