tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-118041802024-03-07T01:20:18.561-08:00Pre-fat Kirk& The Imperial Rockers.Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.comBlogger146125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-8104938035156685902012-05-06T16:37:00.001-07:002012-05-06T16:37:23.556-07:00I wonder why they call him Minnesota Shorts?<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BEsJ1nAYolg?fs=1" width="459"></iframe><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-29747901371548733862011-12-07T15:55:00.000-08:002011-12-07T15:56:33.551-08:00Listen you stupid chief!<iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mBDddNQYqwE?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><div><br /></div><div>OH MY GOSH you guys, they are remaking <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0857190/">THE SWEENEY</a> as a film. It is going to be set in the modern day, so no big hair and bigger pant cuffs, but I bet it will still be full of DAMN GOOD COPPAHS.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am optimistic about the project, because the video shows the director just totally getting it. Yes your gun still has bullets! Run! Bang! Run! Bang bang bang!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-78683136488978082672011-11-17T12:03:00.000-08:002011-11-17T12:54:50.236-08:00Relaxing the mind with origamiSometimes you just need to unwind! Relax! Settle down for goshsakes! How about with some paper folding?<div><br /><div><iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WxCLO1LRjIE?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><div><br /></div><div>Okay but don't actually try to make this thing, that will turn you into a lunatic, and undo all of your relaxation efforts. Let's not go crazy.</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Her voice is hypnotic. And foooooold.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-79931308766157874852011-08-19T17:59:00.000-07:002011-08-19T18:02:20.570-07:00I could never be your rock critic<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVLbNcMrAMxiDabyddilX-PfvPdSKwNuylYBt8Pni7S2wbQ4abUy-fgpEjYWyeufy1uOz__-s495yWwen6KT19yN8-Ikf3JsW5kOfj9pH4gP77MX-NPhXYK1wpc14ibJRl8D3Qw/s1600/hm+mebbe+not.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVLbNcMrAMxiDabyddilX-PfvPdSKwNuylYBt8Pni7S2wbQ4abUy-fgpEjYWyeufy1uOz__-s495yWwen6KT19yN8-Ikf3JsW5kOfj9pH4gP77MX-NPhXYK1wpc14ibJRl8D3Qw/s320/hm+mebbe+not.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642736566889972242" /></a><p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">
<br /></p><p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">Strong opinions about music have led me into trouble more times than I can count, and I tend to change my mind about these things over time anyway, which makes fastidiousness seem silly.<span> </span>(ssssss.)</p><p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">
<br /></p> <p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt"> </p> <p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">I think that in many cases I develop a nuanced connection to the material over time - exalting the positive while gently forgiving the negative (welcome to yet another bad boyfriend analogy).</p><p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">
<br /></p> <p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt"> </p> <p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">And still, some artists creep up on me and immediately I just want to screeeeeam rather than listen to them.<span> </span>Today I tried out a new album - a free download, so no names because that would be unforgivable ingratitude<span> </span>- which is supposed to be an r&b record, about which I thought, "hooray! ", forgetting that r&b no longer exists and instead we're faced with music that makes you feel like you're covered with hot slime.<span> </span>What I really want to say is "BARF BARF BARF X1000 NEGATIVE EIGHT STARS PLEASE NEVER MAKE SOUNDS AGAIN."<span> </span>But that might negate someone else's beautiful experience with the hot slime album, so I won't. It's agony.</p><p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">
<br /></p> <p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt"> </p> <p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">Related: I went to an art show a couple of months ago where all I wanted to do was scream "WHY DOES SHE ALWAYS HAVE TO MAKE IT ABOUT BOOBS?"<span> </span>But I waited until I got home instead, which I felt was evidence of growth.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-65095287144038224892011-08-17T13:58:00.000-07:002011-08-17T14:15:20.824-07:00Questions for a hypothetical conversation with Steve Coogan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQg4FjHveQIto4qfm-aR8_58x0svc5vDFVYdtS7_giyFsAtuPNo__vzLnvxnDJMHEXdiuTibhh_E7mfaQ84Wo6rB7Uc4r9q6XEAY_YrDZ7_CvbKRjsOdjOFrneT5UVt4G39wjUkg/s1600/coogz.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQg4FjHveQIto4qfm-aR8_58x0svc5vDFVYdtS7_giyFsAtuPNo__vzLnvxnDJMHEXdiuTibhh_E7mfaQ84Wo6rB7Uc4r9q6XEAY_YrDZ7_CvbKRjsOdjOFrneT5UVt4G39wjUkg/s320/coogz.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641936032576422914" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>This is the face he would make during the interview.</i></span></div><div>
<br /><ol type="1" style="margin-left: 0.375in; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed; margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; "> <li value="1" style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0;vertical-align:middle"><span style="font-style: normal; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; ">Having built up and torn down many characters, some of them over the course of decades, do you ever find yourself slipping into them accidentally, in your mind?</span></li> <li style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0;vertical-align:middle"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">Do you think of yourself as a character, noticing your own traits and the way that you speak and walk and dress and so forth?<span> </span>Does thinking about how to be different characters make you more self-conscious?<span> </span>Is this how you ended up playing versions of yourself professionally?</span></li> <li style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0;vertical-align:middle"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">Do you prefer playing characters you've created, or is it more relaxed to let someone else write you a part which you can then leave behind when the project's over, eg Roderick the water rat? (Could you ever accidentally slip into Roderick?)</span></li> <li style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0;vertical-align:middle"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">Are there aspects of your characters that are aspirational?<span> </span>Do you wish you knew as much about wasps as Tommy Saxondale, for example?<span> </span>Do you wish you were as emotionally resilient as Alan?<span> </span>(Or maybe you do have these things?<span> </span>Would you be able to help me with the raccoons in my shed?)</span></li><li style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0;vertical-align:middle"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">Do you ever wish people would stop laughing and just take you seriously for once?</span></li></ol></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-71663651529169272792011-06-29T20:36:00.000-07:002011-06-29T20:36:25.595-07:00OH ALSO THIS (1 of 12)<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1V7WubQ1uiY?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-82562492637104445742011-06-29T20:16:00.000-07:002011-06-29T20:16:23.840-07:00Nick Lowe - "Country Girl", Glastonbury Festival, 25th June 2011<iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hBIOIYNmxqk?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-51806585972368455362010-12-11T08:11:00.000-08:002010-12-11T08:14:17.642-08:00Robot Owen Wilson is Freaking Me Out<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdWgfTeOR4daAuQrT3g3azJ7ig5_1nnvfXhUAkkK651eKfiNKYgqxN2g38QEkHNIL6YDKY0yD3TvIEV8TKq57nTkHyL2zZBo2T2xt_7mTmn-J3o7xgcRJNggQiLaSBWYSMS9YqUA/s1600/owen+bonhomme.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdWgfTeOR4daAuQrT3g3azJ7ig5_1nnvfXhUAkkK651eKfiNKYgqxN2g38QEkHNIL6YDKY0yD3TvIEV8TKq57nTkHyL2zZBo2T2xt_7mTmn-J3o7xgcRJNggQiLaSBWYSMS9YqUA/s400/owen+bonhomme.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549458429474227394" border="0" /></a><br />One day I will forget what humans look like and just go around hugging mailboxes and shaking hands with trees all day. Doesn't sound too bad.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-76912413472130349832010-07-26T15:14:00.000-07:002010-07-26T15:56:52.247-07:00Ultra-petite daywear.One of my remotest friends had himself a baby earlier this year, which, you know, <span style="font-style: italic;">finally.</span> Babies are nice, because they don't mind if you make an irrational fuss over them. They don't give you the eyebrows (you know the ones). They feel they're worthy of your devotion. It must be a nice place to be! I've also heard that they vomit unexpectedly and can be cantankerous, but I think that happens behind closed doors, with mother, at 3am. I'm very inexperienced. More of a baby tourist, over here.<br /><br />As such, I like to dress them up like little squishy dolls!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQ-HtYI_5V4pDnasNApEnNW6WWmBgkAgyJGWzuzJTcUnEdSzL-nrJPP7lFTiZM9b7p-JTbTbgypiS8i23JPXhQbVZ9V41CqFroM7XkfrZthmOhi5qPw1sEQsUoNjjVhYtYw4_lQ/s1600/GreenSweater.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQ-HtYI_5V4pDnasNApEnNW6WWmBgkAgyJGWzuzJTcUnEdSzL-nrJPP7lFTiZM9b7p-JTbTbgypiS8i23JPXhQbVZ9V41CqFroM7XkfrZthmOhi5qPw1sEQsUoNjjVhYtYw4_lQ/s400/GreenSweater.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498343729909497122" border="0" /></a><br />Green because she is sort of a redhead, as far as I can tell. Those buttons are like <span style="font-style: italic;">tiny sheriff badges</span>. I die.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-65969109938922422672010-06-08T12:31:00.000-07:002010-06-08T13:35:42.539-07:00Quiet humour.Yesterday I listened to <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00h4w7g">this</a>, which is a humorous essay on opera by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armando_Iannucci">Armando Ianucci</a>. (Armando is a harmonized Scottish/Italian blend, which I think is nice!)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQ12DDe4ag0"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmNevxCxq3faTr6Q0uLT7rpV8cxi3MPt30kewwYnWACpe7M_2JD9th8sKTXWiNeEIOi8kdbQEMpEnaIi30Gmnafu7HZeiW47BhQPPelRohl-a0nbwTthWppnmmIZgYtdgxwBvdA/s400/Ianucci.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480490426305293490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Armando! This horse cannot play clarinet AT ALL.<br /></span></span></div><br />I am also reading <span style="font-style: italic;">The Best of Modern Humor</span> by Mordecai Richler (1986). Both of these things are meant to be funny, and they are! But for the most part I have not been injuring my ribcage over them. There has been nose wrinkling, and I've had to re-read some passages; sometimes it seems like I'm the one being laughed at, for being <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3P1I4CglTzlwzjHZfawOi2xgC3hv9SxgIHTTh74RPq79W-7E3BT6N9t8EpN77YwH0mHIIEBb4YXgQm1u-RSOHm5oaOTK9L6ftTbZfu4H6rYNsu06iFnY-jfsSxveaxOa93Y7xgQ/s1600/mordecaifunny.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3P1I4CglTzlwzjHZfawOi2xgC3hv9SxgIHTTh74RPq79W-7E3BT6N9t8EpN77YwH0mHIIEBb4YXgQm1u-RSOHm5oaOTK9L6ftTbZfu4H6rYNsu06iFnY-jfsSxveaxOa93Y7xgQ/s400/mordecaifunny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480492124424767794" border="0" /></a>generally knuckle-headed. Sometimes I make a face like I've just been handed a particularly lurid piece of birthday cake. Sort of a stifled grimace of amusement.<br /><br />I get a strong sense that this kind of humour is maybe the most sophisticated writing there is, and maybe it is up to all of us to try to appreciate a little bit of it, lest our civilization's funny index be abandoned to the evil whims of John Travolta's hairpiece.<br /><br />But it's not a chore, I swear! You will love not laughing at things.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-75237156581047023002010-05-13T15:25:00.000-07:002010-05-13T15:46:01.100-07:00Bread Thursdays are All for LooooooveIt is totally Bread Thursday. Does that need any explaining? NO.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxePeCALhV4WoiyxSvM3DK33Wo8zIvg3Y1Gr8aQN45Gq4fWv9u6XRRRYLxsNTQZC5RxbAaW5URMTagpU7511hAheOStcsCbnP9ND7pU1r-63gLfLexp92kYUyYJmwwVBVeZM7-A/s1600/IMGP1502.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxePeCALhV4WoiyxSvM3DK33Wo8zIvg3Y1Gr8aQN45Gq4fWv9u6XRRRYLxsNTQZC5RxbAaW5URMTagpU7511hAheOStcsCbnP9ND7pU1r-63gLfLexp92kYUyYJmwwVBVeZM7-A/s320/IMGP1502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470885909692188146" border="0" /></a>These are rolls made with sourdough starter, which makes the dough nice and moist. Make a snake, tie a knot, tuck one end into the middle of the bread and the other end underneath. It is easy.<br /><br />In fact, everything about making bread is shamefully easy, especially when you factor in that bourgeois classic wedding present, the Kitchenaid Mixer (insert angel choirs here). I am 4 serious Holmes, do not buy bread unless you are currently working three jobs and are just too busy. Or maybe you have a nice relative who makes all of the bread, I don't know. At least, do not buy it from the grocery store, that stuff is like, pudding with crumbs? And petrochemicals probably? Who knows.<br /><br />These buns also have oregano in them, so your sandwich is extra faboo automatically. Here, I will take you INSIDE THE BREAD:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JvqSmi9kluAQu0bGqKvcXZrb1Zo8kFU881AoYUJWj7MXT-JhKlJYymc2IzbJ-BNkOhVHioyKl7buK7kCLw7oQ7ocftRX6XAYcr47XA3bBySr4pupZ4DSBukBMKRX-7h9Q94HAw/s1600/IMGP1503.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JvqSmi9kluAQu0bGqKvcXZrb1Zo8kFU881AoYUJWj7MXT-JhKlJYymc2IzbJ-BNkOhVHioyKl7buK7kCLw7oQ7ocftRX6XAYcr47XA3bBySr4pupZ4DSBukBMKRX-7h9Q94HAw/s400/IMGP1503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470887649605169362" border="0" /></a>Terrifying.<br /><br />What you do then is just stow it in those big freezer baggies, and remove from freezer as necessary for mid-afternoon carb-gorging. Preferably while watching 80s classics! OH LLOYD.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tXG6l7tVeow&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tXG6l7tVeow&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-87594316421134185952010-04-21T12:59:00.000-07:002010-04-21T14:08:36.098-07:00Najibullah Quraishi, can we be friends?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/dancingboys/?utm_campaign=homepage&utm_medium=proglist&utm_source=proglist"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKWzUkf5BplyXjugJqNj1SrhHy4iRg6vbxV5hvJgSOyN6IHq-FWNGCVmiWmSlA4NXzv7MF3KYISH2ILhnNKooHP69t7VEkJ8BQWta9UqJxzB4oPugvaK6ZYc4scr5WgMS2b4PpA/s400/naji.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462697572315831298" border="0" /></a>Dear Mr. Quraishi,<br /><br />Here's the thing: I realize that for you it would be like being friends with a flatworm, but at the same time I would like to ask you some questions. For example, should I be supportive of the Canadian mission in <a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6528593886494656568#">Afghanistan</a> right now? If yes, what should we be doing differently? Should I quit my job and just storm parliament already? What I'm hoping is that you will tell me what to think about<a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/talibanlines/?utm_campaign=homepage&utm_medium=proglist&utm_source=proglist"> the issue</a>, whereupon I will feel more politically confident, and at the very least I will know what to ask for, despite our government's probable unwillingness to provide it. They seem to have their own very fixed ideas. But I'd still like to know.<br /><br />It might seem like laziness on my part, but then don't you think it would be presumptuous of me to make up my own mind, given my cushy situation? Google Maps cannot even give me directions to Kandahar from here. So you see Naji (is it okay to call you that? I hope so), I'm just looking for some expertise. With your excellent moral compass and range of experience in the field, you're really the most qualified person I can think of. In return, I am knitting you a jumper. What size are you? Do you object to having "JUST A SUPER GUY" emblazoned across the front? I could also go with "FEAR ME, JERKS." Your call.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Emily.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-3949783086264306822010-04-15T16:33:00.000-07:002010-04-21T14:10:01.127-07:00Gingerino<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.sanpellegrino-corporate.it/Gingerino/"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 357px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKtrEqkA832ou80AQijYPWRUF8dc2DKstw0jZYIpWQIw9cUo3NLSm0dqahqCnx7yQ915f7BYePa0jXZgej5berCH18jxZjSKpEdRgDX0bNq9fqeNBT_vfEEOxjBtbJV7TMEx579Q/s400/gingerino.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460511795294687042" border="0" /></a>My brother was ten when we went to Italy, and he remembers nothing of the experience - except the gingerino. Those suckers have old fashioned bottle caps, not twist-off tops, so once you open them you either have to drink it or pour it on the pavement. One relative gave the three of us two bottles each, setting them in a row and then attacking them, overzealous-bartender-style, snapping the little lids off before our startled eyes. And the thing is, the only flavour you could discern in those things, if you could call it flavour at that high concentration, was ginger. As advertised! I would not describe it as a sophisticated taste experience. You may as well drink your mother's vanilla extract from out of the baking cupboard. It goes down your tongue like a bowling ball covered in tacks.<br /><br />The <a href="http://www.sanpellegrino-corporate.it/Gingerino/">website</a> suggests some fun-type mixes. To which I say NO. Do not sully the pineapple juice and vodka with this crap. It is like cough syrup without the numbing and possibly harmful drugs. I do not understand you, gingerino, but there are <a href="http://www.1st4autographs.com/images/al_pacino.jpg">lots</a> of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZ5ze5n5HrQ">other</a> Italian <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2002/may/14/gender.uk">things</a> I <a href="http://www.virtualtourist.com/travel/Europe/Italy/Lazio/Rome-144659/Warnings_or_Dangers-Rome-Beggars_and_Cons-BR-5.html">don't</a> understand <a href="http://steffen78.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/berlusconi_bandana.jpg">too</a>, so maybe it is related.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-7688568092072764002010-03-02T08:28:00.000-08:002010-03-02T20:09:56.116-08:00He knew he was right (and also a bit of a jackass)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Hy27IcQCVwpGCGDhWiG9a7XMZ9fP2Qo_p07NovdEYlV3QfHPlrDaJGdeSnepS5R_HwCOVeo0fJdg8UTFuXlYehI6lPdkYP9xGcfbLvAzVhol65_sEKuGUEbhoRaW5z6n1-GncQ/s1600-h/Trollope.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 419px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Hy27IcQCVwpGCGDhWiG9a7XMZ9fP2Qo_p07NovdEYlV3QfHPlrDaJGdeSnepS5R_HwCOVeo0fJdg8UTFuXlYehI6lPdkYP9xGcfbLvAzVhol65_sEKuGUEbhoRaW5z6n1-GncQ/s400/Trollope.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444074328607484674" border="0" /></a><br />Anthony Trollope <a href="http://books.google.ca/books?id=Eqw8AAAAYAAJ&dq=he+knew+he+was+right,+volume&source=gbs_navlinks_s">makes fun of</a> himself, his readers, his characters, his book, literature in general, and the world. Andrew Davies completely fails to televise it, but can you blame him really?<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-3884734553849640122010-02-15T19:23:00.001-08:002010-02-15T19:26:37.996-08:00Nielyo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUfOwdTVlTK6PJtmjkYKMeO9JeDLu9rAcqKNOV7GaYRitvZCmW5CbEwKo1T2ga2a2MGj2yQVexz7TMwpUkau62w8jPI6UcBI-Av_CDBKClm_c-WTY8ESuxC7HqNje4VjmP0KcQg/s1600-h/sweet+caroline.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUfOwdTVlTK6PJtmjkYKMeO9JeDLu9rAcqKNOV7GaYRitvZCmW5CbEwKo1T2ga2a2MGj2yQVexz7TMwpUkau62w8jPI6UcBI-Av_CDBKClm_c-WTY8ESuxC7HqNje4VjmP0KcQg/s400/sweet+caroline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438676983580609170" border="0" /></a>The LIVE BAND in STRIPED SHIRTS with HORNS at the Richmond Ohhhhlympick Oval just played 'Sweet Caroline' and everyone in the house sang along, it was magic.<br /><br />If you are interested in coverage sans Brian Williams, sometimes it is available, like right now for instance over <a href="http://www.ctvolympics.ca/speed-skating/results-and-schedules/event=SSM205000/index.html">here</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-21815941530385015912010-02-11T13:49:00.001-08:002010-02-11T15:28:13.632-08:00Who's responsible for airline safety?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xWIlz8Wp5HbZFCrBpata4glqad2c60LHYRS3AdaZCkyvfTD9qbqonwzWinKU4IKuu3s5L8GOMUFUowm7g3oeEU88nQn4t45C6VoQi19y0DIMFYAeWPfzDGPijNP7LzoRxOVp9Q/s1600-h/airline+safety.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xWIlz8Wp5HbZFCrBpata4glqad2c60LHYRS3AdaZCkyvfTD9qbqonwzWinKU4IKuu3s5L8GOMUFUowm7g3oeEU88nQn4t45C6VoQi19y0DIMFYAeWPfzDGPijNP7LzoRxOVp9Q/s400/airline+safety.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437106793753572050" border="0" /></a>Not this guy, he's way too busy drizzling himself with butter under an industrial heat lamp.<br /><br />Cheap joke!<br /><br />But seriously, <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/flyingcheap/view/?utm_campaign=homepage&utm_medium=proglist&utm_source=proglist">this</a> is just freaking me out.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-51515819710111114032010-01-27T12:10:00.000-08:002010-01-29T08:55:53.320-08:00Extreme ladydom<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/przHAho4Xgc&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/przHAho4Xgc&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Argh, Casey from Ninja Turtles!<br />Okay, for the record, strippers.<br /><br />Things that everybody knows:<br /><br />- Strip bars are way less interesting in real life.<br /><br />- Strip-choreography is not generally as creative or interesting as one would like.<br /><br />- Strippers' bodies are largely plastic, surreal caricatures of womanhood. This makes the experience of seeing them naked equally plastic and surreal. Last week I was in a public washroom when a woman decided to pee with the door wide open, and it sent me running down the hallway of the professional building. Running. Whereas the strippers are just kind of there, you know?<br /><br />- It's a living, even though most people's moms don't want them doing that.<br /><br />- It is cruel to refer to an actor who is just doing his job as 'Casey from Ninja Turtles'.<br /><br />- Stripping is probably forever, barring some nuclear incident, and even then you could take your clothes off for cash in a fall-out shelter, although what you would then spend the cash on I don't know. Maybe you could create some sort of ultra-primitive economy where everyone is simultaneously a stripper and a voyeur, and you all just run around in the shelter shoving money in each others' underwear. <br /><br />- Don McKellar and Sarah Polley directed by Atom Egoyan in CANADIAN FILM ABOUT LIFE COMPLICATED.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://donmckellar.cjb.net/"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 160px;" src="http://www.elainehsu.ca/donmckellar/bio/bio2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Look into his big pretty eyes, he is having feeelings.</span></span><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-89934718482574287682010-01-13T11:33:00.000-08:002010-01-27T10:32:03.015-08:00Whoopsum LeapBy accident today my computer thinks it is American and I suddenly get aaaaall the TV.<br /><br />Shhhh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiotXGHxgjB4iwaUWahUk6daoQIReU777iYOzcuL1rIUI9eQv-ksrC2HzK9wbv1JQl3KHSsFuPzV7zoj2q3iiUhUdQ5xMMypOFsj6WmLrqVEWF_qUW6kQqMiM9nPqI93N_LapbQ/s1600-h/baculalala.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiotXGHxgjB4iwaUWahUk6daoQIReU777iYOzcuL1rIUI9eQv-ksrC2HzK9wbv1JQl3KHSsFuPzV7zoj2q3iiUhUdQ5xMMypOFsj6WmLrqVEWF_qUW6kQqMiM9nPqI93N_LapbQ/s400/baculalala.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426310194940325154" border="0" /></a><br />It could disappear at any moment, so I am quickly absorbing much Quantum Leap. They must have really wanted that sucker to get pickup, because the Bakula spends 3/4 of the first episode with no shirt on, looking quite Harrison-Ford-y, actually, although with roughly 6x the eyebrows.<br /><br />UPDATE, 4pm:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYAuJgQFcMbeljO6xmmpjtxUMjiazgfPwVrQbyYhOKDR4dFcjTshT0V7Yr-Emtel2aHwMg0xXSHyRx3YpCf14Y9yX2TlKQy3SfzW1c78gGWorAs9IDdP_gFM0h3qnwLNWBBltkw/s1600-h/baculaslide.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYAuJgQFcMbeljO6xmmpjtxUMjiazgfPwVrQbyYhOKDR4dFcjTshT0V7Yr-Emtel2aHwMg0xXSHyRx3YpCf14Y9yX2TlKQy3SfzW1c78gGWorAs9IDdP_gFM0h3qnwLNWBBltkw/s400/baculaslide.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426348189843074498" border="0" /></a><br />I am sure no good will come of this.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-78591724994981236862010-01-08T14:10:00.000-08:002010-01-13T12:34:10.391-08:00The Edible Woman s13e73<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0odk_rAZ4uQOCi26vYsPBNFR5-7l57hU66vBcxsT3tF6na0WBYLPaHYg6NX2Z2__ZTuqz9ESOQQUKk9xAjTkH7hTRJYtkyh56D2U942v7k9Uzv2iycraoOFUhZsG9QTUbi3qQA/s1600-h/ediblewoman.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0odk_rAZ4uQOCi26vYsPBNFR5-7l57hU66vBcxsT3tF6na0WBYLPaHYg6NX2Z2__ZTuqz9ESOQQUKk9xAjTkH7hTRJYtkyh56D2U942v7k9Uzv2iycraoOFUhZsG9QTUbi3qQA/s400/ediblewoman.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424496061779344946" border="0" /></a>This morning my tea smiled up at me with five thousand tiny, shiny bubble eyes. "Charming," you might say. I let it go cold and then tipped it in the sink (after grabbing the appropriate evidence, as you see).<br /><br />That book is just totally self-indulgent, isn't it? I'm sure that's why I like it. BARF.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-89671884274836451462009-12-01T14:13:00.000-08:002010-01-13T12:34:45.374-08:00The Christmas ProblemI am one of those troubling women who hoards Christmas decorations in massive quantities. Worse, I keep an eye open for them, year-round, in dusty back corners of thrift stores.<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago it was a wicker basket under a table at a church 'Fall Fair' garage sale.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSyfajwtqAWYuvWwx0TJf8rADTDkIb3ua9lTFAQWY3AZr9UatgOQJd1ZiqBWI3tBDI02QmYZoUDzDHhZtZH8IAg099KahyphenhyphenFwPcmG9Rj5boaH7MQlrnOTdOKIq0mJmIPAmY6AnRQ/s1600/IMGP1322.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSyfajwtqAWYuvWwx0TJf8rADTDkIb3ua9lTFAQWY3AZr9UatgOQJd1ZiqBWI3tBDI02QmYZoUDzDHhZtZH8IAg099KahyphenhyphenFwPcmG9Rj5boaH7MQlrnOTdOKIq0mJmIPAmY6AnRQ/s400/IMGP1322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410396094112092722" border="0" /></a>Thrill to my pink tablecloth with grease spots. These ornaments (except the one on the far right, which is probably homemade - bless) are 'Shiny Brite' ornaments, which I have just finished reading about <a href="http://ezinearticles.com/?Vintage-Shiny-Brite-Christmas-Ornaments-Max-Eckardts-Shiny-Brite-Ornaments&id=860927">here</a>. Manufactured in the U.S.A, it says so right on the, uh, lid? So the guess is that they're from no later than 1962, because they're all made from that delightful thin glass that likes to go boom when the cat gets too close.<br /><br />I especially like these weird tree ones:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAl3APP6P8zsPtY00EBmaUeLjD1UQOOdVE6s2JZB_pFdigcIExOQvCCWzqYpcLjvvOiZfV4STNjlp7R5Ru6pazHY45jFHEtatQo9Zk6s4Yn7ap3RDyHeSqbSsfv2x8iRO3vhSQg/s1600/IMGP1323.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAl3APP6P8zsPtY00EBmaUeLjD1UQOOdVE6s2JZB_pFdigcIExOQvCCWzqYpcLjvvOiZfV4STNjlp7R5Ru6pazHY45jFHEtatQo9Zk6s4Yn7ap3RDyHeSqbSsfv2x8iRO3vhSQg/s400/IMGP1323.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410396976274158450" border="0" /></a>They're kind of battered, and that frosty stuff is turning a bit icky, but there is no denying the appeal of those seasonally nontraditional colours. The blue and yellow in particular. I find the vintage approach to be comforting, at Christmas; new and perfect things only serve to remind me that I, myself, am not perfect or at all new (and neither is the family as a whole, woof, amirite?). Instead I choose to embrace the slightly soiled loveliness of somebody else's castoffs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_RrWps1-VbKotelcelfTAdZUG78kCQUwa6_DHnmjWq93b0Ar8e_tXYO1-9t2OYGwHIQez7tGx_VB3L3J_T9l3Z_0Ys7FdKnAeTj7qCJ-9qiqZE0bMUcgQVBWuDaTOc0DlzM3xA/s1600/IMGP1324.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_RrWps1-VbKotelcelfTAdZUG78kCQUwa6_DHnmjWq93b0Ar8e_tXYO1-9t2OYGwHIQez7tGx_VB3L3J_T9l3Z_0Ys7FdKnAeTj7qCJ-9qiqZE0bMUcgQVBWuDaTOc0DlzM3xA/s400/IMGP1324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410398095261071058" border="0" /></a>These 'double reflector' numbers are heavily reminiscent of the ornaments on the tree at my grandparents' farm, many years ago. Although I believe those were plastic, as was the tree. That carelessly globbed-on orange paint is just pure pathos, isn't it? Pure pathos for, like, a dollar? You can get these all over the online auction sites, but that sort of takes the fun out of it; if you find it yourself in a thrift shop and give it a polish with a soft rag, it's like you adopted it, whereas there is far too much choice, sometimes, online, and then you just end up unhappy no matter what. Me and the thrift store, we find mutual satisfaction.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-65412303069901888952009-10-23T11:30:00.000-07:002010-01-13T12:35:08.108-08:00Le Livre de Poche<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpbWlN_ktYjqqKOcdSEpvYKNpScNeZgFpfd9pVHB2pCTYjsGzTtq5wBDvVYmXLYfmIqDASlkUeUgIyJ0-bNCOc1Ldxv4W-uJfW3Cz6fKX4ZMYxJZI_1frKC02Njn_kxUvOVFFtA/s1600-h/e.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpbWlN_ktYjqqKOcdSEpvYKNpScNeZgFpfd9pVHB2pCTYjsGzTtq5wBDvVYmXLYfmIqDASlkUeUgIyJ0-bNCOc1Ldxv4W-uJfW3Cz6fKX4ZMYxJZI_1frKC02Njn_kxUvOVFFtA/s320/e.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395877369006921490" border="0" /></a>I love it when people post book cover scans; old Penguin and Puffin Classics are so delightful, and I'm not above buying a copy of a book I already own because the cover is really great. Generally these are old books I'm digging out of a stinky pile at the local thrift store, while my paramour holds his nose and sags noticeably with every passing minute. He doesn't like standing around in musty second-hand shops. Unfortunately for him, I love it. If all I had to do all day was sift through other people's attics and closets looking for weird old junk, I would be a happy lady. As it is, the bread, she must be earned. And the kettle chips.<br /><br />Anyway, old books. Here are a couple that I'm particularly fond of. And because we are in Canada, a land peppered liberally with native French speakers and frustrated French students, these castoffs are in French, and all from <a href="http://www.livredepoche.com/">le Livre de Poche</a>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uLpv9YRSue_2KXooPA1xPgYhKH7OTAfxbRu8oXGV-Zshm1TXmwtGcWhnO9wwPXOuI3w1zTESpbqDhrlstdVwZkMSroIXMPi6aVJHXfVq5kifrsdQHAWzxNXJ59ySGLp2MdqNog/s1600-h/jument+front.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 492px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uLpv9YRSue_2KXooPA1xPgYhKH7OTAfxbRu8oXGV-Zshm1TXmwtGcWhnO9wwPXOuI3w1zTESpbqDhrlstdVwZkMSroIXMPi6aVJHXfVq5kifrsdQHAWzxNXJ59ySGLp2MdqNog/s400/jument+front.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395866191839243218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">La Jument Verte - Marcel Ayme, 1933<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;">How could anyone pass up this book, which is about a green horse, and includes an obviously crazy ensemble cast. As with many old books, this one is lovingly inscribed with its owner's name - useful in case you went to a wild book party and needed to collect your things a week later, when the gin had worn off. So we know that Janice owned this in 1971, and she had very nice handwriting. I'll also mention that all rights are reserved in every country, even the U.S.S.R.; were they particularly guilty when it came to copyright infringement? I do not know.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisbxux2pqSR4WGJSQYSsc_AsXqNFn6e2-7ulvru5yA3crvkU0djblIfK9NbjOBPoI-Y8R4T67dDmfJ7KeyS0NgdETfGfGNOke-CfATKv_J_3NFA53ROnVlpQ_oDTHglfr2eSAEvw/s1600-h/jument+back.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisbxux2pqSR4WGJSQYSsc_AsXqNFn6e2-7ulvru5yA3crvkU0djblIfK9NbjOBPoI-Y8R4T67dDmfJ7KeyS0NgdETfGfGNOke-CfATKv_J_3NFA53ROnVlpQ_oDTHglfr2eSAEvw/s400/jument+back.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395867879095613506" border="0" /></a>The back. "A well of health and good humour." (Very roughly.) I guarantee Rene Lalou never though his review would look so funky. If book backs could be this well-designed now, people might bother reading them with some interest. There are more words on the backs of some books than in them, and for what? Abandoned self-congratulation, methinks. This, however, is beautiful. Your local bookstore could display this thing backwards.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGDVGIdP-mYpic816B24-fC0qq5hj3BA1jcKY2MDWL_NjnLRO8HegJuk5CETUGRfyRRZ40tSMInc2rMsFxoQTpuVntgR5L3rTuW9VfveVBjN0Yp7eRnUODzOE6oOIH27tBIuS6A/s1600-h/diable+front.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 484px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGDVGIdP-mYpic816B24-fC0qq5hj3BA1jcKY2MDWL_NjnLRO8HegJuk5CETUGRfyRRZ40tSMInc2rMsFxoQTpuVntgR5L3rTuW9VfveVBjN0Yp7eRnUODzOE6oOIH27tBIuS6A/s400/diable+front.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395869239082300082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">le Diable au Corps - Raymond Radiguet, 1923</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">This book is gorgeous and creepy all at the same time. When I read this on the bus (showing off, obviously) it eventually occurred to me that it could make you look like a proud French smut enthusiast, which is maybe not the worst thing. The problem occurs when you notice the obvious youth of that kid on the right. Ick. Thankfully the book isn't criminally perverse, just sexually weird in interesting ways (I'm defining something here, but I'm not quite sure what).<br />This book belonged to Odette. Charmed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMY648dJ0HQW4wdxBch-dks98mDbqnmhQWLXxhGTGwi8FicDM3PplRKR-HycnQazkUb9M3OGG1qHNs98PhC5_Yv87dBHv8n3nQcVrYlHa84ywhNCRGKPEMQKJc0ROS_Cf-j2w7A/s1600-h/diable+back.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMY648dJ0HQW4wdxBch-dks98mDbqnmhQWLXxhGTGwi8FicDM3PplRKR-HycnQazkUb9M3OGG1qHNs98PhC5_Yv87dBHv8n3nQcVrYlHa84ywhNCRGKPEMQKJc0ROS_Cf-j2w7A/s400/diable+back.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395871697955622882" border="0" /></a>When Jean Cocteau says you're a phenomenon, and compares you to Rimbaud, and says that your genius is basically a giant burden, you jot it down and fax it to your editor, asap. Probably that's not what happened here, but it's a good tip for any aspiring writers out there.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSBoyvMLAXjHjLuZByyWMC18Uo4OWAu7gkxYxHJvuiLS0jfIHKri526VhDRuCf2SGjxoTU8YXOcSGsrpKMsMYwn7dG9cW01l1SAVzN2HynV0SwXTK_4YkbRFv_YoEUzEtdC1tEw/s1600-h/lotr+front.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 531px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSBoyvMLAXjHjLuZByyWMC18Uo4OWAu7gkxYxHJvuiLS0jfIHKri526VhDRuCf2SGjxoTU8YXOcSGsrpKMsMYwn7dG9cW01l1SAVzN2HynV0SwXTK_4YkbRFv_YoEUzEtdC1tEw/s400/lotr+front.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395872717719630434" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Le seigneur des anneaux - Tolkien, 1954<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;">It can scream pocketbook all it wants, but that sucker is huge. This is a 1979 edition of a 1966 translation. The fun of this book is to hold it up in front of nerd friends and challenge them to identify it. If you want to make it legitimately difficult, cover the author name, but honestly it's amazing how long it seems to take. Maybe the little hobbit (oops, spoiler) in the bottom right corner, with his loopy hairy feet and spats, seems a bit... goofy? And I'm not sure why we've got TOLKIEN in giant BONANZA-style lettering. I enjoy the big gold rings though, very threatening and Christmasy, all at once. The French edition wins out in this regard also: "Tome" is waaay more impressive than "Book" or "Volume."<br /><br />I take it back, he's not goofy, he's hilarious and I would like to watch him eat scones and fight dragons in a mountain:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-RQBoB6XlMWb8LJDcQmdTA6FgtJ-7l6kTcYBciTjfkL5Ci6tN4UrYFNgfFwMLIioTUZ2Q_f8P-4mBV7UusZH4d2a9BLxvHATwqPXj-dQywp93CfAzBy__Pzd6GISB0IQA65_rqw/s1600-h/hobbit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 284px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-RQBoB6XlMWb8LJDcQmdTA6FgtJ-7l6kTcYBciTjfkL5Ci6tN4UrYFNgfFwMLIioTUZ2Q_f8P-4mBV7UusZH4d2a9BLxvHATwqPXj-dQywp93CfAzBy__Pzd6GISB0IQA65_rqw/s400/hobbit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395876812008403650" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-57428888456144553912009-09-25T15:46:00.000-07:002009-09-25T17:04:46.901-07:00Paul McGann, MCMVIXXXI have not ever watched Doctor Who. I realize that there has been considerable renewed interest in the franchise over the last few years thanks to a Mr. David Tennant, who is considered quite handsome. Fair enough. And the new Doctor (premiering next year!) appears to be even more entrenched in the alterna-cheesecake vein, which only proves that the Doctor Who producers know their youthful nerdlady audience extremely well, and are trying to ensure the series' longevity by installing what is essentially a British Wentz in tweed <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIk1XoZxCKrw_HIHOIZcCkkQa0fVQjfR1mqgKZGZeLdCNC2mYWmqNINTVyT10lnQmRnePH4LLLUE3HyF_kq_UY9YsGNGd5iVjIPC2hPs1hQBgvE2358ZyeUwoWqN0U_P4sZhkgTw/s1600-h/11th_Doctor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 77px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIk1XoZxCKrw_HIHOIZcCkkQa0fVQjfR1mqgKZGZeLdCNC2mYWmqNINTVyT10lnQmRnePH4LLLUE3HyF_kq_UY9YsGNGd5iVjIPC2hPs1hQBgvE2358ZyeUwoWqN0U_P4sZhkgTw/s200/11th_Doctor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385557995427619298" border="0" /></a>(fig.1, at right) as their new hero. He's very cute, don't get me wrong, I support you, young nerdladies! Chase that tweed fox! But there are other things to be considered, like the fact that I am ancient, and no longer with it; what is out there in the Dr. Whoniverse (actually a <a href="http://www.whoniverse.org/">real thing on the internet</a>, gurgle) for moi?<br /><br />Shall I tell you? I shall. It is the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b009szrh">Eighth Doctor series</a> on BBC Radio 7. Starring the lovely Paul McGann, whose voice is really his best attribute anyway. The adventures are glorously improbable, and very silly, and always involve disastrously cheesy aliens (I think this is the deal with Who, M.D., but I'm a beginner, so it stands out) and of course there is a harshly shrieking companion lady who always gets into scrapes, boy howdy. She grows on you, though, despite the constant 'oi!'-ing.<br /><br />McGann was on TV once as Dr. Who, although I have not seen it. He's solely a radio Who now. Because really: Paul McGann does not need to get dragged onto the TV for this gig anymore. Not that he isn't dreamy or anything, because I think it's been clinically proven that (even at 50, long pause) he is. But oh my grandmother, that is not a good look for him, that eighth doctor outfit. And they assault me with it every time I open the BBC page; like cold defiance. I can handle the velvet jacket and the ascot, mostly. But the hair is beyond the pale.<br /><br />Here, take a look at this fan art (thank you, dedicated fans, you never fail me), and I challenge you not to spontaneously scream, all together now:<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9rLCzOnWEBU&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9rLCzOnWEBU&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />AAAH, FLOATING HEAD!<br /><br />But really it's the wig's fault. It's very alarming, and fully overpowers an other<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmFPCA_sOvt9boR7wDbhHPVSlBAWN-Bn3SbyyMcg6NAXMdNAYGuwP5lNv-3ePxw3MB-4NvqsE1SIshb5zonpJSaCkyq23LkOfedAyxqLGEnVNLP5RGvuN4rTK0fLnLn_iFfwUSQ/s1600-h/Paul+McGann.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmFPCA_sOvt9boR7wDbhHPVSlBAWN-Bn3SbyyMcg6NAXMdNAYGuwP5lNv-3ePxw3MB-4NvqsE1SIshb5zonpJSaCkyq23LkOfedAyxqLGEnVNLP5RGvuN4rTK0fLnLn_iFfwUSQ/s200/Paul+McGann.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385558909714862754" border="0" /></a>wise quite nice looking person. And that was in 1996! A man doesn't need to deal with that when he's reached his fifth decade. It's just not right. It shows a lack of respect, strapping that limp rug on his head. Never again, atrocious wig, never again. He looks like Rex Smith after a conditioning accident.<br /><br />I think we've established, I hate the wig.<br /><br />And also this is just wrong:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgz0bPjPzQp5J98CqiI1QDcEyrca5k_IRmQZ8sMbnVEkHkpnIanBLKwniidlsdX5wHk_CEANfhcw6MZtj5PH7Dz73XiXnDbunrhN3kR_45VPr6UW7rEcGCeGV_bntsWAOJ8GcWw/s1600-h/mcgannwig.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgz0bPjPzQp5J98CqiI1QDcEyrca5k_IRmQZ8sMbnVEkHkpnIanBLKwniidlsdX5wHk_CEANfhcw6MZtj5PH7Dz73XiXnDbunrhN3kR_45VPr6UW7rEcGCeGV_bntsWAOJ8GcWw/s400/mcgannwig.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385559374005732226" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-38439595907228455382009-09-25T15:34:00.000-07:002009-09-25T15:45:32.758-07:00Ten years and no gold watchAs much as I love it and will miss it probably, I've left CJSF. So there. I've been doing a radio show at Simon Fraser University for ten whole years, and frankly my old bones don't want to make the weekly drive up the hill anymore. Yes, that's me, so broken down that even a short car ride is a hardship. The bumps in the road! My hips! I mean, yes, it's good knitting time, but the risk of spearing onesself in the eyeball is ever-present. Where is my PSA about that? Blah blah blah, sum up: Flushie flushie goes Singing with Barbra.<br /><br />However.<br /><br />I did so used to enjoy bleughing, and so I am going to instead use this space to catalogue my many little projects outside of radio, provided any of them get off the ground at all. Also to complain about my angina (which incidentally would be a lovely baby name, I think - let's rehabilitate that word via innocent children) and itchy scalp. Baby, it's gonna be a ride and a half, and you and I will take it together. Or I'll take it alone, what the shit.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-65556003995223239192009-05-27T10:39:00.000-07:002009-05-27T11:53:29.364-07:00She's real good lookin'.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEtrY5aQzzy2xnYtOMoQDjZefc7lY5QrqGCW6q6EX3e6iWHaYBhdiqH8QWjbKX34oX0vk64HkasVnA9zjtINAiWDdpcdKcVK5Nebe4_nNhyphenhyphenvFlJq4_HLPWwLenSm4M-5OyZwYAg/s1600-h/moranis+lady.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEtrY5aQzzy2xnYtOMoQDjZefc7lY5QrqGCW6q6EX3e6iWHaYBhdiqH8QWjbKX34oX0vk64HkasVnA9zjtINAiWDdpcdKcVK5Nebe4_nNhyphenhyphenvFlJq4_HLPWwLenSm4M-5OyZwYAg/s400/moranis+lady.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340562140007386242" border="0" /></a>I'm a bit fixated on Rick Moranis this week. Every time we dip into the old video collection and he stumbles in, being hilarious and endearing, I think to myself, "Hey self, where has that charming Moranis fellow got to?" Thankfully, my self has a subscription to the internet.<br /><br />Download this week's show: <a href="http://www.cjsf.ca/vanilla_archives/2009_May_26_19_00.mp3">Part 1</a> <a href="http://www.cjsf.ca/vanilla_archives/2009_May_26_19_30.mp3">Part 2</a><br /><br />On this week's show:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 1:</span> <a href="http://www.immaculatemachine.com/">Immaculate Machine</a> - thank me later<br />Comments: Chugging rock dealing with hindsight. I know you'll thank him for it later, when your heartache nets you a hit song and you make millions! You will curse him when Bruce Allen waves a pistol at you and demands you take up smoking to give you edge, however.<br /><br />Discussion: The Joel Plaskett concert at the Vogue a couple of weeks ago, it was extremely good, and the crowd loved him like a deranged parent loves their glue-eating child (i.e. unconditionally, and with goodwill to spare). He's very talented though, so we could have been quite grumpy and he probably still would have won us over.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mevql6-3JULL1JFEqpjJwPMOC5ve01E4kdItPeTHvbwDTsjCjdF7Ef9gIs-44VihYjSZ5_l4e-JM7x0J6rhqRJvbelhjnuPFQsNVM4CP9HW1_EdvMT4jKHHRlN3duPec7G1X9A/s1600-h/moose.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mevql6-3JULL1JFEqpjJwPMOC5ve01E4kdItPeTHvbwDTsjCjdF7Ef9gIs-44VihYjSZ5_l4e-JM7x0J6rhqRJvbelhjnuPFQsNVM4CP9HW1_EdvMT4jKHHRlN3duPec7G1X9A/s200/moose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340565221568437602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 2:</span> <a href="http://www.joelplaskett.com/">Joel Plaskett</a> - wishful thinkin'<br />Comments: This is yet another j.p. touring song. It sounds like a train! Somebody's been taking notes from their Can-rock elders. The line "I wish you were here but you're <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5utc5TOPNbo&feature=related">naaaaaaaaaaht!</a>" sounds like a taunt, which is what makes it so appealing, I think. Ha ha, Joel is beyond supervision and out of control! He's probably wearing <span style="font-style: italic;">multiple</span> sweatervests, you cannot stop him!<br /><br />More discussion: Playing solo, like Mr. Plaskett, takes some serious avocados in the pants. You have to make the material speak for itself, sans Marshall stack! That is an impressive feat. Nick Lowe is my favourite example of this. He could play any of his songs just with an acoustic guitar and force you to listen. Probably has endless success picking up chicks in bars using roughly the same skill set; there are some things you can't teach.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 3:</span> <a href="http://www.nicklowe.net/">Nick Lowe</a> - Tanque-Rae<br />Comments: The rhythm of this is reckless and fun. Mr. Lowe specializes in songs about girls, and the fact that this one doubles as a song about alcohol is no accident. Dance dance dance, gulp gulp gulp.<br /><br />Light chat: Should they make moves out of just <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catch-22"><span style="font-style: italic;">any old book</span></a>? They are probably going to make one out of <a href="http://www.valentinoachakdeng.org/"><span style="font-style: italic;">What is the What</span></a>. I refuse to watch actor children pretend to eat baby birds. But would I like to hear it as a radio play? Possibly! Somebody needs to resurrect the radio play business with some really gripping stories, and not ones about little orphan Annie and Superman, thanks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJfpt5aDkxdfht2c4M4lFwdPuyoNKiFq1Cv-N2x_64bjNLxDCgLv1Sg07jEbTkJLY8DJ7s3y6HcVQ1yZKX3WNcVKbWKhotZ5cnYrv29fGuakevJ4Vp8I2e2XJfPiJCss_i9v1yQ/s1600-h/keyb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJfpt5aDkxdfht2c4M4lFwdPuyoNKiFq1Cv-N2x_64bjNLxDCgLv1Sg07jEbTkJLY8DJ7s3y6HcVQ1yZKX3WNcVKbWKhotZ5cnYrv29fGuakevJ4Vp8I2e2XJfPiJCss_i9v1yQ/s200/keyb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340570599226298626" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 4:</span> <a href="http://www.myspace.com/mathiasmental">Mathias Mental</a> - my little life<br />Comments: I've decided that Mathias Mental and Joel Plaskett should have a keyboard-off, if only because it would amuse me. This whole album is really great, I have made a habit of listening to it at home. This particular song is a bit melancholy, but still so danceable, and combining the two without re-writing an old Joy Division song is truly a wonderful skill.<br /><br />Further talking: My summer project for 2009 is <a href="http://www.infitinesummer.org/">THIS</a>. 75 pages per week and I should have read David Foster Wallace's <span style="font-style: italic;">Infinite Jest</span> by the end of September. I'm on the library waiting list now. I hope it's full of repressed females and brooding tall dark men in tight pants! But I doubt it somehow.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 5:</span> <a href="http://www.lukedoucet.com/">Luke Doucet</a> - Pedro<br />Comments: A cross-border love song full of resonant guitar that would make Neil Young blush with simultaneous pride and envy. Pedro is some sort of Mexican-Canadian angel with a serious power over the ladies. Specifically the American ladies.<br /><br />Talky talk talk: Rick Moranis, and why he continues to fascinate me, perhaps unhealthily. I think it behooves us all to think about how we might achieve success as early as possible so as to retire and devote ourselves to family and maybe put out a hilarious country album.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 6:</span> <a href="http://www.rickmoranisfanpage.com/Moranis/">Rick Moranis</a> - music and love<br />Comments: Rick Moranis talks for ages about nothing, basically listing song titles and random stuff, and still it's hilarious. I cracked at "she's acting single, I'm drinkin' doubles." This is from the 1989 album 'You, Me, The Music and Me' which is out of print, but I suggest you click on that link up there, AHEM, cough, wheeze.<br /><br />Talking: Wherein I refer to that last track as 'a song,' because I am so clever. Anyway, you should waste some time at <a href="http://www.vectorpark.com/"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Vectorpark</span></a>, apropos of nothing.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 7: </span><a href="http://www.myspace.com/kissmedeadlyband">Kiss Me Deadly</a> - dance 3<br />Comments: This is very pretty, and has sort of an outdoor festival feel to it. Would sound great in a park, full of crazed people in face paint. Get on that kids.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 8:</span> <a href="http://www.waxmannequin.com/">Wax Mannequin</a> - dustboy rides the train<br />Comments: Adventurous yet stripped-down guitar in no fixed time signature (or maybe there is one, but heck if I know, I only got to grade 8 in the royal conservatory). Thankfully the middle bit is in 4/4, which even I, the musical heathen, am familiar with. The charm of this is that it's sort of cocky but also low-key, which almost implies a threat. A threat to <span style="font-style: italic;">rock</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Song 9: </span>Eddie Furman - jobs I'd like to have<br />Comments: Pretty much anything as long as the overtime's not too heavy, huh Eddie? I feel you. Can't really relate to your wish for surprise illegitimate children though. That's a bit weird.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IDiquNvJXM8&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IDiquNvJXM8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11804180.post-58386847140901437932009-03-03T19:02:00.000-08:002009-03-04T09:34:15.500-08:00live as I'll ever beI think Grant of Downliner's Crypt told everyone I would be pre-recorded tonight, but no, he's wrong, I'm here flying by the seat of my pants. If the whole thing falls apart at 7:17pm, you'll know it's real. Reality radio! The punters love it, amirite?<br /><br />Put it on yer mp3 player: <a href="http://www.cjsf.ca/vanilla_archives/2009_March_03_19_00.mp3">Part 1</a> <a href="http://www.cjsf.ca/vanilla_archives/2009_March_03_19_30.mp3">Part 2</a><br /><br />Track list:<br /><br />1. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/afternoonsinstereo">Afternoons in Stereo</a> - Everybody dance now: songs from Hamilton 3 - party at dick & mimi's<br /><br />Comments: This is being played again, because it is a stone groove. I'm stealing terminology from 'Trading Places' and using it incorrectly! Check me out! I'm also chair dancing. Grrr, Hamilton, you sexy, uh, industrially-based town.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyndG_DuGDMQgs_VCL4pACEHy2-c78-8UGDJiTBmWcDJCdfEhKMBayLkJs5I5nPgOFDdyJ4Qz7Mw4WwO5sVudSwvpw1pAnrvkoBIOs_RMYKhIkTKMDP5XtuwtFax594jfa3nifLw/s1600-h/reg+beard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 197px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyndG_DuGDMQgs_VCL4pACEHy2-c78-8UGDJiTBmWcDJCdfEhKMBayLkJs5I5nPgOFDdyJ4Qz7Mw4WwO5sVudSwvpw1pAnrvkoBIOs_RMYKhIkTKMDP5XtuwtFax594jfa3nifLw/s400/reg+beard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309385684630975234" border="0" /></a>2. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/15608517">Gentleman Reg</a> - jet black - how we exit<br /><br />Comments: More dance dance dancing! I love his little beard. The whole package is quite charming. Meets or exceeds my criteria for excellence. Music, facial hair, chair dancing, check check check!<br /><br />3. <a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=140482691">Grandfather Fire & the Holy Mourning</a> - freedom street<br /><br />Comments: A dramatic interlude for a dramatic show. Think about life: the song.<br /><br />4. <a href="http://radio3.cbc.ca/bands/ANIME">Anime</a> feat. Versus - <a href="http://www.cfur.ca/">If we ever get out of here, a prince george tribute to band on the run</a> - helen wheels<br /><br />Comments: Yes, that really is what it says it is. This is so much better than McCartney. Ooh, sacrilege! Ah hell, I slaughtered that goat a long time ago.<br /><br />5. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/arrowsband">Cursed Arrows</a> - cfru: just west of something big - run forever<br /><br />Comments: Grr, angry guitar. Very crunchy, I like it. I want to destroy small business equipment to this song! In boots! And then maybe dance for a bit. And then kick stuff some more!<br /><br />6. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/themaynards">The Maynards</a> - date & destroy - dance fight '83<br /><br />Comments: I like the dance instructions, and also the mysterious warning. They're going to get me. It is maybe not as threatening as they want it to be. They seem too cuddly for this kind of thing. Also I just kind of want to hang out with their bassist, whose stoicism is undeniably compelling.<br /><br />7. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/loladutronic">Lola Dutronic</a> - in berlin - brigitte bardot<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hLkoXfN9VDA&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hLkoXfN9VDA&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Comments: Boys are just so silly sometimes, don't you think? I love this whimsical techno-pop! And it has a fake ending. This song is basically perfect.<br /><br />8. <a href="http://www.thebuttlesschaps.com/">The Buttless Chaps</a> - cartography - total amounts left are not enough<br /><br />Comments: An economic crisis-appropriate song, right? This is pretty and honest. I'm feelin' it.<br /><br />9. <a href="http://radio3.cbc.ca/bands/FINAL-FANTASY">Final Fantasy</a> - plays to please - crush love crush<br /><br />Comments: reliably sad and lovely. Okay, must dash, see you next week.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Fana-fana-bonana</div>Embothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14099227057557220842noreply@blogger.com0