Archive for the 'Movies' Category

13
Mar
13

and the award goes to. . .

Jennifer Lawrence, for wit and grace under pressure; also known as “maintaining poise and humor while answering stupid questions from the press.”

I mean, really — these are the best questions they can come up with? Seems like they don’t even need to be asked.

Anyway. I think she’s terrific. She was fantastic in Winter’s Bone, she’s young and beautiful and confident and not a wisp.

My only regret is I managed not to see this until today.

27
Feb
13

Well if you put it that way. . .

Interesting take on the controversial “Boob Song” performed by Seth McFarlane on the Oscars a couple nights ago.

Read and watch here.

Discuss.

29
Nov
12

Wildly Low-cost Solution to Clearing Afghan Landmines

Wildly Low-cost Solution to Clearing Afghan Landmines.

Found this on “Quieter Elephant.” (One of my favorite Canadians, which isn’t a worthless distinction, given that I’m married to one.)

Beauty born of necessity. Just hoping it gets done, and that it works.

In a almost-but-maybe-not-quite-related story, we watched Blood Diamond last night. A little Spielbergian-sanctimonious at times, but it really changes the way you think about that particular gemstone. Was wondering if it would help anyone in Africa if I took the tiny diamonds out of my ears.

 

25
Sep
12

looks about right

(Clicking on each headline should take you to the article in its entirety.)

(This right after his brilliant suggestion that we “kick [the difficult problems in the Middle East] down the road and hope someone else comes up with a solution.”)

To sum up: Apparently Mitt believes that he is in a dead heat with Obama,  ” . . . an outright denial of political reality, but Mr. Romney’s willingness to stray from the truth is at the root of what’s really going on.”

and. . .


an article which includes the line: “And we need to ask whether we now have an electoral process so vacuous, vicious and just plain silly that most people in their right minds wouldn’t go anywhere near it.”

Which reminds me of this. (Click “this” to read it.)

Alas.

If only we had a Holocaust cloak and a wheelbarrow. (I’m not really sure why the above reminded me of this clip, but it did. Maybe it was just the use of “to sum up.” It’s a good clip, either way.)

18
Jun
12

alone vs. lonely

You can spend a lifetime surrounded by busy-ness and noise and people and feel completely alone.

Husband left yesterday (with the cappuccino machine, which just seems to me to be the Last Straw) and I won’t see him until Friday.

I have so much to do, and I’m busy busy busy doing it, but I know, every minute, that he is 160 miles and 5 days away. Some part of me knows.

Your absence goes through me
like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with is color.

(Merwin, not me. I wish.)

Second Son is in the basement playing his guitar, Only Daughter is at her father’s until tomorrow night, Dexter the Dancing dog is in his “house” for the evening.

I watched Juno and cried, in the usual spot. Can’t find a clip. You’ll have to watch it and see if you can figure out where.

Sigh.

 

05
Jun
12

from Housekeeping, by Marilynne Robinson

“. . .Every spirit passing through the world fingers the tangible and mars the mutable, and finally has come to look and not to buy. So shoes are worn and hassocks are sat upon and finally everything is left where it was and the spirit passes on, just as the wind in the orchard picks up the leaves from the ground as if there were no other pleasure in the world but brown leaves, as if it would deck, clothe, flesh itself in flourishes of dusty brown apple leaves, and then drops them all in a heap at the side of the house and goes on. . .”

23
May
12

sorrows keener than these

. . .We stood and brushed each other off.
There are sorrows keener than these. . .

(Jane Kenyon, “The Blue Bowl”)

I got up this morning and sat on the couch in my pajamas while Only Daughter got herself ready for school. She sat for a while underneath my legs underneath the alpaca blanket, chattering about this and that as she is wont to do. When she went out for the bus I went back to bed and slept until almost 11.

I can’t seem to do anything, at least not anything that matters.

After a brunch of poached eggs and bacon with the fattiest portion sliced off and sourdough toast I glued the broken-off border mosaic tiles back on to the table I made for my mom many Mother’s Days ago. Two of the border tiles, and most of the edging ones, are missing. I’ll have to figure out something else to do there. I had this feeling as I was doing it that I was reassembling more than a table; something right out of a Coppola movie. Forgiveness, absence, loss, misunderstandings, shortcomings, misapprehensions — all filled in with a squirt of glue and a purple glass tile.

As if, right?




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