Shut Up Shutting Up

Sigh.

My apologies to those who were confused by the earlier post deletion. I just wanted to remove my crabbing. Somethings are hard enough to explain in person, never mind on a pseudo pseudonymous blog.

Words can never really be taken back. In the future, I'll try to be less impulsive with the publish button.

“It’s good to shut up sometimes.”

pulling myself out of a vortex

After getting sucked into the vortex of a blog comment discussion and its sub-discussion about how many "hard scientists" are conservative, I must say this:

There is no causal relationship between working in physical science, math, computer science, or other logic-based field (or having the intellectual talents that these fields require) and holding certain political beliefs. One of the most important lessons I carry with me from my semester of Formal Logic is that logic alone is not a sure path to any truth. Unfortunately, it's possible for a perfectly logical statement to be complete bs. It's a funky, messy world, especially the human parts than must interact with other humans. Smart people disagree with each other.

All this gives me another opportunity to say that style and taste--while not without meaning--are not connected to specific philosophical beliefs. No no no no no no.

There, I feel much better now.

10:40 to Entertainment

Yesterday morning me, Trix and Snacks (and someone without an online knickname) caught the early showing of 3:10 to Yuma. This movie had every western trick in the book--cattle, fancy shooting, Chinese railroad workers, towns with names like Contention, brutal codes of honor, city slickers, everything but a school marm. It was like a delicious pizza with the works.

The western blood washed away the sin of Mr. Crowe's previous movie. I'm glad someone outside of a celebrity rag remembered that he makes a hell of an interesting bad guy. Aside from the pleasure of seeing my favorite pleasingly plump actor in a movie that doesn't suck, I really enjoyed Ben Foster's outlaw ensemble--a silvery gray marching band jacket with rust red pants. It was the coolest western outfit ever. Christian Bale gave an excellent performance as the everyman/hero. Trix liked the soundtrack for its inventive use of noises.Snacks said that his favorite part was the shootin'. Also satisfying were the hats, the horses, and the pretty rocks.

On Beauty

I can't help it. I'm a sucker for that Queen Latifah make-up line. She's black. I'm black. She's big. I'm big. Of course I should buy whatever snake oil she's hawking. If only I understood how to use cosmetics. In my hands, eye shadow and liners makes my eyes look beady. Mascara has no effect. The only thing I understand in tweezers. Two eyebrows good. One long eyebrow bad. Comma shaped eyebrows bad.

As I was trying to find a link for my favorite beauty bargain, I stumbled upon an interesting move in ethnic marketing. Mixed Chicks hair care products. What's next? Light Skinded Chicks make-up? Seriously, though, this Mixed Chicks stuff seems like a good idea, because the waxy oils and industrial adhesive-like gels that might work for my hair really hide the beauty of looser curls.

If Trader Joe's Spa Nourish weren't so inexpensive and gentle, I might try this mixed stuff myself.

That Episcopalian Feeling

I used to be slightly baffled by Jewish atheists until I realized that I am in many ways an Episcopalian agnostic.

I'm not officially Episcopalian. I wasn't even raised in that church. It's just that I feel Episcopalian more than anything else. I am surprisingly comfortable attending the occasional holiday service with my relatives. It's the least annoying denomination in the Christian world.

Yesterday, I attended a music recital in an Episcopal chapel. (Thank you, Yoko!) It was a very nice place. Although Lipby might have preferred bloodier art work and decorations, I appreciated the nativity mural at the alter. Honestly, I can do without a pasty, bloody Jesus with the sad eyes rolling up into the back of his head, thank you very much. Like Ricky Bobby, sometimes I just want a cute baby Jesus.

Although the recital took place in a church, the music was secular. Last weekend, the situation was reversed. I attended a gospel show at the Keswick. This event also brought home my appreciation of the Episcopal way. At first I was unhappy that none of the acts in this show came from any Episcopal churches, but as the program wore on, this became a point of pride. It may be a dry denomination. It may be bourgeois. It may stink up the place with incense. But it's not going to make you sit through over 2 hours of repetitive warbling and beg you to shout and clap. It doesn't introduce itself by saying "I don't know about you, but I love the Lord!" And most important of all, it doesn't ask you for random offerings in the middle of a show that you already paid to see.

My Lifestyle as Theater

http://www.livearts-fringe.org/2007/details.cfm?id=1974

Rushmore!

How could I forget Rushmore? My mind's like a sieve.

The Limits of the Top Ten List

After seeing Superbad with MamaAss last weekend, I tried to compile a list of the best teen comedies ever. Here's the result.

10. Valley Girl
9. Gregory's Girl
8. House Party
7. Bring It On
6. Clueless
6.5 Rushmore
5. Flirting
4. Welcome to the Dollhouse
3. Superbad
2. Fast Times at Ridgemont High
1. Heathers

Yes, there are omissions. A few are due to poor memory. Dazed and Confused and Say Anything are a bit fuzzy, I'm too young to recall Cooley High, and I couldn't remember then name of this one Scandinavian flick about teen lesbians and didn't want to Google it for fear of being inundated with porn. Does that mean these movies were unworthy? Also, even though I was pretty liberal in my definition of teen comedy, I left out some good films due to technicalities. In spirit, Grosse Point Blank and Harold & Kumar are teen comedies, but since they are about adults, I left them out. Dick is about teens, but the political satire overrides the age of the main characters. I liked Ghost World, but it wasn't much of a comedy. Animal House and its cousins and offspring are in an entirely different breed.

I would also like to honor the plucky young women of Anne of Green Gables and Brides of Christ miniseries, as well as Circle of Friends, and the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and Whale Rider.

And La Boum, for making French class fun.

John Hughes can bite me.