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3:29 p.m. - 2013-08-25
Each Paragraph Is An Island

I read most of an article yesterday before the sheer obnoxiousness of it forced me to put it down. It wasn't the subject, I like the topic (romantic movies), it wasn't the author's choice of movies (25 best of, such lists are always subjective), nope, it was the writing. Horrible. Simply horrible. The whole piece reeked of "My God, look at how erudite and literate I am!" The worst part? I could tell she was soooo proud of this dopey article. I could feel her tortured labor, the pacing of the floor agonizing over each and every adjective! And, oh, the depth and profundity! The exquisite perception! The amazing insights she had about a genre usually written off as fluff! I tried, really, but got as far as 'the Brechtian precepts lightly grazed upon by the director without wholeheartedly delving into the emotional remove' before I chucked the magazine across my office with a snort loud enough to startle the dog. Sweetheart, really, 'the Brechtian precepts' in 'The Notebook'? How about you take those insights and awesome literary skills and finally finish your Master's thesis on how the chafing of Shakespeare's woolen underpants was responsible for the tragic ending in 'Troilus and Cressida', m'kay?


Look, I try not to be too harsh a critic as I go about my days. 'Judge not, that ye be not judged' etc, etc, and for the most part I keep to that. Okay, the occasional snarky thought about a questionable outfit or poor choice in grooming, but mostly I'm too self-involved to bother wasting my energy on being a critical bitch about the public at large. I am, however, all kinds of harsh on bad writing. Especially pieces like the one yesterday where you can hear the author congratulating herself through the whole thing. I read shit like that and always wonder how difficult it must be to type with only one hand because the other one is too busy giving self-administered back pats.

I have no objection to smarts. I like smarts. I just think smartypantses shouldn't take themselves too seriously. Case in point- the Pythons. Best combo of highbrow and a pie in the face evah.

"Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."

"Oh but if I went 'round sayin' I was Emperor, just because some moistened bint lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away."

Smart dished up with a healthy dose of silly. Irresistible.

I've got a great thing going with the guy who mows my lawn. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement where we each get what we want and everybody is happy about it, even Mick. Phil schedules our appointment for the last of the day so his spending extra time here doesn't jam things up for the other guys. Thoughtful. Such a sweetie he is. Okay, enough innuendo. Truth is the ex left 247.5 metric tons of crap in my backyard and Phil the yard kid does extra landscaping in exchange for junk. Phil gets various bits and bobs for his pick-up truck and the far back portion of the property is slowly being reclaimed from the garbagy crap festooned jungle the ex left in his wake.

OMG! I thought I'd seen all the truly great Cary Grant movies. I could make a list but I'd sound as snotty as Ms Brechtian up there. Suffice it to say I ran a quick count on my shelves and found eight in my DVD collection and must have watched at least a dozen others on AMC. Darling Cary Grant, the George Clooney of his time- a ridiculously handsome, charming, yet politically subversive and far smarter than given credit for kind of guy. (Sure, ask me what it's like to be assumed an idiot for being pretty. Looks and brains rarely go together. Uh huh.) Anyway I just got finished watching People Will Talk. Holy moly, what a terrific movie!

Got streaming Netflix? Check it out. Guarantee it's worth the time and if you know me at all you'll understand why I was so fetched with it.

Not in a formal made-a-list kind of way, it's strictly been as the whim strikes me, but I've gotten quite a few chores done over the last couple days. Weird chores like cleaning off the top of the china closet and going through the food cabinets getting rid of expired stuff. I miss having a pantry. It's my only beef about the kitchen. Well that and how difficult it is to keep Black Beauty the stove clean. I had a white stove for nine years and there wasn't a spot on it when we replaced it. You'd think a black appliance would be a snap to keep up, but this thing defeats me. Part of it is having that fifth burner in the center. No place for a spoon rest so when I get going on a multi-pan dinner the slop flies everywhere. Also the burner grilles are big weighty cast-iron cumbersome things. Taking the stovetop apart takes muscle. I do love the way it cooks though. The two power burners are terrific. Enough BTUs to flash fry an ox.

We saw 'The Butler' the other night. I liked but didn't love it. Some of the scenes were incredibly powerful. The montage of the state dinner and the lunch counter was amazing. Overall though to me the film was both draggy and choppy. I'm thinking a ton of scenes didn't make into the movie just from time constraints. Definitely put a ding on the narrative. The characters were very human. Nobody was a saint and no one totally evil. Not even Nixon. Though that might just have been John Cusack. If he doesn't get nominated for Best Supporting Actor I'll eat a hat.

Kind of a quiet week here at Casa Sage. By no means a bad thing but not a lot of action to report on. Next week will be better, we're cramming in as much summer as we can. Lots of good things in the offing.

Hope everyone's doing well. Mick and Wolf both say hello. ~LA

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