There was something surreal about one of America’s greatest philanderers coming to the defense of Miss America, one of America’s most philanderable females. The treatment experience is apt to tighten Tara Conner up, albeit temporarily. She owes the Donald one and I’m betting he’ll be tightening her up sooner than later, possibly on a visit to the nuthouse.
This doesn’t sit well with the ugly and awful Rosie O’Donnell. As if everybody wasn’t already aware of it, Rosie felt compelled to comment on the irony of the Donald counseling a beautiful young woman on character/moral matters. Apparently the irony of her nasty self commenting on the trials and tribulations of a beautiful young woman is lost on Rosie.
In a perfect world we wouldn’t have people like Rosie and Donald. In such a world, beautiful young women wouldn’t have to worry about waking up with their underwear on backwards, should they accept a beverage from the likes of either. We don’t live in a perfect world though, and what fun would it be if we did?
Science fascinates me. Not real science like goes on in a lab. More the kind you might catch on PBS’s Nova. I tend to interpret the world symbolically so I’m not much good at the practical. Additionally, I’m mathematically challenged, and like all math challenged people, I’m locked out of the world of the hard sciences almost completely.
I like Michael Crichton. His books don’t do anything for me. Neither do his movies or television shows. Periodically, though, I’ll catch him on Book tv or elsewhere on cable, and I always enjoy his talks. Yes, he’s supercilious and a little weird. He’s wry, though, and I like that.
Crichton seems to hate bullshit even more than I do. He calls clowns — be they scientist, journalist, or congressman — on their crap and that’s pretty damn cool. He doesn’t have to do it. He just does. He graduated from Harvard Medical School so he has the background to digest real science. Additionally, I tend to trust him because he’s already rich and doesn’t have any reason to manipulate me. (Unlike, say, someone who is jockeying for grant money or running for office.)
Anyway, if you hate bullshit and are frequently bored, make an effort to catch Crichton on cable sometime. Better yet, click over to his site and read a couple of his speeches. “Aliens Cause Global Warming” is pretty good.
Last night I caught part of “A Tribute to James Taylor” on PBS’s Great Performances. The performers and their renderings were a mixed bag. Taylor played a few tunes at the end and, as anyone who’s seen him would predict, stole the show.
I liked Bonnie Raitt’s version of “Rainy Day Man” and Alison Krauss’ “Going to Carolina”. Keith Urban proved (to me) that he’s more than just a pretty rock-n-roll wannabe with his rendition of “Country Road”. Sting was overmatched in his attempt to cover the complex “Close Your Eyes”, but it was a fine choice of a relatively obscure Taylor tune. Bruce Springsteen’s offering of “Millworker” was powerful and another brilliant choice of Taylor’s little known material. It was a nice show but would have been exponentially better if they’d just shown a JT concert.
James Taylor is one of handful of artists that can claim complete mastery of all aspects of his craft; singing, playing, and writing. He’s also a stellar live performer. Of the three finest concerts I’ve attended over 30 years, two of them were Taylor’s. If you haven’t seen JT, you owe it to yourself to do it, especially if it’s at Mud Island (Memphis) in the rain.
On the evening news I saw Michael Richards apologizing, yet again, this time on Jesse Jackson’s radio program. It called to mind the following not-very-amusing, but perhaps instructive story.
Once there were two psychiatrist, one short and one tall, who daily shared an elevator up to their offices. Everyday, as the doors opened and the short psychiatrist prepared to disembark, he turned to the tall one and spit on him. This went on, day in and day out, for years.
On his last day prior to retirement, the elevator attendant who’d witnessed this ritual countless times was overcome with curiosity. “Sir”, he asked the tall psychiatrist, “why does that little man spit on you everyday, and why don’t you do something about it?”
The tall psychiatrist, without looking at the attendant, replied as if annoyed, “How should I know? It’s his problem“.
Cops in Louisiana busted the great Willie Nelson and members of his band for marijuana and mushrooms. Apparently he had quite a stash, as befits one of the greatest god-damn men that has ever lived. Let’s hope the cops responsible for this travesty have been laughed off the job already. I realize stupidity is a job requirement, but being stupid enough to arrest Willie, well, that’s just too stupid, even for cops. Those dullards need to be in politics.
Mel Gibson has been a favorite of mine for nearly 20 years. I like his movies. He doesn’t hang out in the same circles I do. He probably doesn’t know people like me even exist. He’s rich and isolated from the masses. I hope he’s grateful for that.
It’s not a stretch to say that Gibson isn’t ever on my radar unless I’m seated in a movie theater. At least that was the case until recently. Due to the 24-hour news cycle, and the insatiable appetite for crap it feeds, Mel Gibson has begun to haunt me as I attempt to amuse myself with the Internet and Direct TV.
Everybody suffering from ennui knows that Mel got liquored up and took his Lexus for a spin. Unfortunately for Mr. Gibson, he was captured by the cops as he blissfully endangered the lives of the folks sharing the roadway with him. Happens all the time. Hell, I’ve done it. Double hell, I’ve been caught doing it.
Anyway, Mel said some nasty things about Jews to the cops who arrested him. When they captured me as a drunk-driving teenager, I informed the arresting officer that cops were mental midgets and queers. I’m not famous though. My best bet would probably have been if that cop had Rodney Kinged me, and someone would have caught it on tape. Nevertheless, my reputation survived that lapse in judgement. I ruined in completely in subsequent years with other questionable choices.
Mr. Gibson’s reputation is being dragged through the mud because he said some nasty stuff about Jews. It’s likely that he’d be catching less negative press had he run several Jews down while drunk, then kept quiet about it during his arrest. Why anybody, other than the unfortunates that comprise the ranks of MADD, gives a hoot in hell about the Mel Gibson matter, is a mystery, and proof we’re living in the Age of Bullshit.
Let me summarize Mel Gibson, as I now see him. 1) He makes good movies. 2) He drinks and drives. 3) He’s an asshole when he gets arrested. 4) He makes good movies. Until Mel comes to my house, breaks my door down, and molests me or my basset hound, numbers one and four will matter most to me.