1. "Go to Buttbart.com,"
derspatchel just told me. I made some eloquent response on the order of "What?" But I typed in the address, just to see, and I realized that though a great voice in political commentary might have been lost when Chuck Tingle decided to devote his considerable talents to the production of increasingly metafictional erotica, our recent global crisis has prompted him to realize the truth that one can, simultaneously and at the same time, get pounded in the butt by current events and work to reclaim reality from them. I am especially fond of the last sentence in the lead article and everything about the reader poll.
2. In other news that does not suck, I had not realized how awesome Annie Glenn is. (Ignore the text of the URL; the story itself is nuanced.) I had known very little about her, mostly from her portrayal in The Right Stuff (1983). Now I kind of want her own biopic.
3. Kirk Douglas is a century old. That's just cool.
4. I am delighted when any lost or incomplete movie surfaces from the fragile and flammable wrack of film history, but I have to say that H. K. Breslauer's The City Without Jews (Die Stadt ohne Juden, 1924) really picked its moment.
5. Dorothea Lange's long-censored photographs of the Japanese-American internment camps did not just resurface, but I had never seen any of them before—or even known they existed—and they are worth, painfully, seeing.
Five things make a post and the sixth is a resolution: I am never going to refer to our President-elect as "The Donald." If I have an unqualified Donald, it's O'Connor. I believe this attitude should explain itself to anyone who has ever seen Singin' in the Rain (1952).
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2. In other news that does not suck, I had not realized how awesome Annie Glenn is. (Ignore the text of the URL; the story itself is nuanced.) I had known very little about her, mostly from her portrayal in The Right Stuff (1983). Now I kind of want her own biopic.
3. Kirk Douglas is a century old. That's just cool.
4. I am delighted when any lost or incomplete movie surfaces from the fragile and flammable wrack of film history, but I have to say that H. K. Breslauer's The City Without Jews (Die Stadt ohne Juden, 1924) really picked its moment.
5. Dorothea Lange's long-censored photographs of the Japanese-American internment camps did not just resurface, but I had never seen any of them before—or even known they existed—and they are worth, painfully, seeing.
Five things make a post and the sixth is a resolution: I am never going to refer to our President-elect as "The Donald." If I have an unqualified Donald, it's O'Connor. I believe this attitude should explain itself to anyone who has ever seen Singin' in the Rain (1952).