1. My poem "False Lights" has been accepted by inkscrawl. It was written at the end of July, under the combined influence of painful depression and re-reading Susan Cooper's Greenwitch (1974); it is about fog and wrecking and ghosts. The issue is guest-edited by Bogi Takács; the theme is Atypical Weather and I am greatly looking forward to it. I'll link to the table of contents as soon as there is one.
2. Tonight![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel and I watched The Pirate (1948) on TCM. This is the musical where Judy Garland sings a hypnotized ballad whose catchy, crowd-pleasing rhythm depends on two different stresses of the word "Caribbean" and Gene Kelly dances ballet in skintight black short-shorts, wielding a cutlass while the stage catches fire around him. There is pole-dancing, also performed by Kelly. Walter Slezak is defeated with slapsticks and colored paper hoops, personifying either the power of comedy or the need to move on to the closing number. It was directed by Vincente Minnelli and the hats alone escalate the movie into surrealism. Never let it be said that the man did not know how to costume for Technicolor. The story is terrifically direct about fantasy and sexuality and for about four months in 2009 it was my personal benchmark for most idtastic musical I'd seen; then I discovered The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (1953). Sorry, Minnelli. The Pirate remains, however, a high-water mark of its genre (i.e., batshit), and Rob had never seen it, and I feel I have done a good deed in introducing him to an MGM musical which contains lyrics like "Throughout the Caribbean or vicinity / Macoco leaves a flaming trail of masculinity," which was perhaps not Cole Porter's finest hour, but definitely one of his more awesome. The film's only real drawback is that "Be a Clown" is honestly not as good as "Make 'Em Laugh," meaning we chased The Pirate with four minutes of Donald O'Connor. I regret nothing. Singin' in the Rain (1952) has a lot of things, including immortal dialogue, inimitable choreography, one of my earliest role models, and Jean Hagen, but it doesn't have Gene Kelly in hot pants.
3. I just like this because it's oceanic. She could be a rusalka if she weren't at sea.
2. Tonight
derspatchel and I watched The Pirate (1948) on TCM. This is the musical where Judy Garland sings a hypnotized ballad whose catchy, crowd-pleasing rhythm depends on two different stresses of the word "Caribbean" and Gene Kelly dances ballet in skintight black short-shorts, wielding a cutlass while the stage catches fire around him. There is pole-dancing, also performed by Kelly. Walter Slezak is defeated with slapsticks and colored paper hoops, personifying either the power of comedy or the need to move on to the closing number. It was directed by Vincente Minnelli and the hats alone escalate the movie into surrealism. Never let it be said that the man did not know how to costume for Technicolor. The story is terrifically direct about fantasy and sexuality and for about four months in 2009 it was my personal benchmark for most idtastic musical I'd seen; then I discovered The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (1953). Sorry, Minnelli. The Pirate remains, however, a high-water mark of its genre (i.e., batshit), and Rob had never seen it, and I feel I have done a good deed in introducing him to an MGM musical which contains lyrics like "Throughout the Caribbean or vicinity / Macoco leaves a flaming trail of masculinity," which was perhaps not Cole Porter's finest hour, but definitely one of his more awesome. The film's only real drawback is that "Be a Clown" is honestly not as good as "Make 'Em Laugh," meaning we chased The Pirate with four minutes of Donald O'Connor. I regret nothing. Singin' in the Rain (1952) has a lot of things, including immortal dialogue, inimitable choreography, one of my earliest role models, and Jean Hagen, but it doesn't have Gene Kelly in hot pants.3. I just like this because it's oceanic. She could be a rusalka if she weren't at sea.
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