Duran Duran

"New Religion" 

New Year's Eve

1982

On the last day of 2014, may I present Duran Duran on the last day of 1982 at the Palladium in NYC. "New Religion" has always been one of my favorite classic Duran tunes, and it kicks ass live. I especially love the way John (bass) and Andy (guitar) play off one another. And of course there's Simon. He really knows how to shake his.....tambourines.

Excuse me sirs, can I bum a ride? 

I've always loved this macabre little Yuletide carol. 

Oh Weird Al, you're a national treasure.

To all a good night! 

A few words about Angelina "chicken pox" Jolie

"OMG you guys, I totally have chicken pox! I can't believe it!"
Neither can anyone with a functioning cerebral cortex, honey.

I've mentioned my loathing of St. Angie several times before on this blog. In fact, looking back, I realize I've devoted a lot more space to her than I should have. So, for the last time, here I go. In the immortal words of my father: "I'm not going to tell you again!" 

When it comes to my knee-jerk revulsion to all things Jolie, I can't exactly pinpoint when it started. I know that earlier in her career (before the Brad Pitting and all the compulsive child collecting) I barely paid her any mind. I knew she existed; I even saw some of her movies: Girl Interrupted, Gia, and Tomb Raider--that last one, in my defense, was not my idea. It was the summer of 2001, I saw it on a date, and aside from being bored out of my skull, I don't remember much about the movie itself. Ironically, the guy who dragged me to see Tomb Raider apparently had high expectations for it and spent the whole car ride home ranting about how awful it was. I was like *shrug* "Okay, whatevs," which kind of sums up my whole reaction to Angelina Jolie at the time. I didn't have much interest in her movies, she was just another "bleh" Hollywood actress churning out mainstream crap that held little interest for me.   

I think it was around the time she was trying out her whole emo persona (the goth-y/bloodletting/Billy Bob era) that I realized how much she grated. Not surprisingly, this was also when she started getting all that press for her contrived "edgy" shenanigans. The whole thing just reeked of shameless fame-trolling, and the fact that the media seemed to be swallowing the line of bullshit she was trying to run on everyone (at the same time praising her "acting" skills...wha?) made her all the more nauseating.

The Brad Pitt thing sort of clinched it for me. Now, I know the tabloids would have you believe that every woman in America still cares deeply about the breakup of "Brad and Jen" and Angelina's role in it, but let's get real here. Brad Pitt, IIRC, was known to be something of a slut during his marriage to Aniston (and well before that), so the news that he couldn't keep it in his pants on the set of that stupid movie was hardly earth-shattering. Also, was the general public that emotionally invested in the Aniston-Pitt union? God, I sincerely hope not. No, what chapped my ass about that whole dumb media circus is that was the moment in time that Angelina's fish-lipped mug became completely inescapable, and it's been that way ever since. 

AND THEN, in light of the Sony leak and Jolie's chicken pox fakery, I read something about Jolie's past so wretched and disturbing that it made my blood boil. Following a link from an article about famous people with mental illnesses, I came upon this. I wouldn't even recommend clicking on it, because it's vile. To sum it up, the article references a viral video in which Angelina Jolie "talk(s) about beating her pet dog to death (whom she states died a short while later), trying to kill her pet snake, and other acts of cruelty towards other animals that were in her care." If you have any doubts about the validity of that information, the video is embedded in the above link, where you can hear it straight from the skank's mouth.

 

So that's it then. Angelina Jolie is a psychopathic animal abuser. I'm not fooled for a minute by her whole Mother Teresa act. I don't care what sort of "humanitarian" efforts she attaches herself to. She could find the cure for cancer and broker a lasting peace agreement between Israel and Palestine and the woman will forever be a piece of subhuman garbage. It makes me wonder now about my years-long visceral abhorrence of that woman. Maybe I could smell the evil on her. Or maybe it was just a coincidence. 

At any rate, I refuse to support any of her movies or anything she "directs", "writes," or touches with a ten-foot pole. In fact, I'd rather be forced, Clockwork Orange-style, to watch a week-long marathon of Keeping Up With the Kardashians than to see five seconds of footage of Angelina Jolie ever again. 

And Brad Pitt can also take his toys and go home. I'm done with him too.

     

Insomnia...it's a hell of a drug.

Once upon a time Frank Zappa and Borat had a kid together and that kid grew up and he got himself a silver jumpsuit and a Yamaha synth and a key-tar and Lady Gaga and made this video and it was the greatest achievement in the history of the arts and it made everything warm and special and magical and the stars aligned and the angels wept and peace broke out across the land and everyone laughed and hugged and cried and holy shit this really is the greatest thing ever recorded.

You're welcome.

Okay, so this blog has been semi-comatose for a while, but I do have an excuse...for the month of November, anyway. See graphic above. YES, I actually won NaNoWriMo this year! I wrote a 50,000 word novel between Nov. 1 - Nov. 30. Hallelujah!

This was my fourth attempt at NaNoWriMo. I entered in 2010 and made it to around 10,000 words before running out of inspiration for that particular project. I still have what remains of the manuscript, so it's something I may go back to at some point. I tried NaNo again in 2012 (working title: Wreckage), but didn't get past the third day. This time it was a case of having a very vague idea of a story, one not fully formed in my head enough to keep up my momentum. Then last year, 2013, I had an awesome idea for TWO sequels to Thanks, That Was Fun. My 2013 NaNoWriMo plan was to start on In Spite of Me, the second installment of my would-be trilogy. (The Morphine album Cure For Pain was the inspiration, hence the book title.). But that fell apart about 16,000 words in. I don't quite know what happened there, but I still have all my outlines and I will definitely return to ISoM in the future.

And then, this year. This year! Fourth time was the charm. I wrote my ass off for 30 days and ended up with 50,107 words. The novel is nowhere near finished. In fact, it's only 3/4 of the way there, and much editing needs to be done. But still, I DID IT!

My 2014 NaNoWriMo novel is, incidentally, titled Harleighwood. I'm giving myself a week off before I go back and start editing and adding to fully complete it.

But for now, YES! It is finished. Temporarily.

"The secret to life is to have no fear. When you can let go of what others think about you, how something is going to turn out, or how your past will affect your future, then you are finally living life free.”
-- Unknown

"He's a man you don't meet every day." 

Richard Charles Ryan 

June 1, 1931 - May 7, 2014

Dad and me, circa 1993

I lost my father last Wednesday, May 7. 

I haven't been able to write anything; my brain has shut down. As far as my emotional state, I've been cycling from anguish to rage to numbness to anxiety to hopelessness ad infinitum. My husband has been amazing--he is truly my rock. I've also been getting a lot of support from friends far and near, some of whom have experienced the loss of a parent themselves. It has meant so much to hear that what I'm feeling and going through is normal and completely understandable. Thank you to everyone for being so awesome. Your kind words and support bring more comfort than you'll ever know.  

I'm going through all the old photos of Dad that I have. There are some great ones but unfortunately--or fortunately--I made some awesome scrapbooks for Dad a few Christmases ago that have all the best family photos of him with all his kids and grandkids, as well as pictures and clippings from his career as an adman from the 1950's through the 1990's. There are also some funny pictures of him during his swinging bachelor days in Tulsa and Chicago, which are a hoot. I've got dibs on the photo albums so I am looking forward to having those again and maybe posting the best shots here on the blog. I think Dad would like that.

His memorial service is being held in Tulsa at the end of this month. He didn't want a funeral, just an Irish wake with plenty of booze and toasts and music. Dad's favorite local Irish band -- Cairde na Gael -- will of course be providing live music.

Nicest group of musicians you'd ever want to meet.

I'm still processing everything and I may not be able to write about his death again for a long time. 

What else is there to say? I guess this says it all......

Getting this in just under the wire (for Pacific time, anyway)....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GLORIA STEINEM! 

80 is the new 40!!!

John and I are packing to leave for England (gonna meet my UK family---including my step-grandchildren!) so this is all very last minute. Thus, here's a cool infograph from Makers.com......

And this photo is my favorite. Of course.

I love that she's a catwoman!

Cheerio for now, luvs! 

"BREAKING: Female celebrity wears swimsuit
after expelling small human from her uterus!"

The current trend of "BODY AFTER BABY!" headlines that periodically scream at me from the covers of former guilty pleasures like People magazine and its bastard stepchild US make my brain poop. Feature stories like this are so prevalent I didn't have to dig deep to find examples like this: 

"My secret? Adderall and Ex-Lax! Carrot sticks and Pilates!"

And more recently, we have--ugh--Kim Kardashian (and/or her publicist) making sure we all know that she has shed every single ounce of her baby weight! And this is an important thing that people REALLY CARE ABOUT. 

The sad thing is, I'm not even being facetious. Since we live in a supply-and-demand kind of world--this is not only solid evidence of carbon based lifeforms demonstrating an intense interest in Photoshopped images of "stars" like Kim Kardashian, but also a perverse hunger for details of the strict amphetamine/colon cleansing regimen she employs to shed those pesky post-fetus pounds, along with the help of an assistant whose one and only job is to slap the occasional Pep-o-mint Lifesaver out of the "reality" star's hand should she feel the urge to splurge.

I don't mean to imply that Kardashian is anorexic or "Hollywood-skinny" (same diff, technically). After all, having pontoon floats inserted into her asscheeks and silicone bags in her chest insures that she can claim to be "curvy" and "real" and anyone who dares suggest that she's a vapid, no-talent waste of eyeliner who purposely turned herself into a creepy inflatable hip-hop-Barbie-doll-wet dream is just OMG so meeeeean you guys!!!!

"Dammit, I'm just as classy as Beyonce! Or at least Nicki Minaj!"

I'll end this post with two favorite quotes about the Kardashians (and celebrity idiocy in general): 

"Between the three of (the Kardashian sisters), they've brought the Armenian literacy rate down to 14 percent. If you handed them a stack of script pages, they'd probably ask you when they started making tampons that small." ---Internet humorist Seanbaby

"Whether it's Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian or whoever, stupidity is certainly celebrated. Being a fucking idiot is a valuable commodity in this culture because you're rewarded significantly."

----Jon Hamm, aka Don Draper (PREACH IT, BRUTHA!)

"Thriller"....The Playmobil version

A few words about this video....

This is not an entirely faithful recreation of the Thriller video. In fact, it's a very loose re-telling of the original Michael Jackson feature. It's French, though....what do you expect?

There is, however, a sequence where some Playmobil figures rise (awesomely) from their "graves". 

I have spoken about my love for the wonderful weirdness of Playmobil music videos in the past. Seriously, I can't get enough of this shit. In fact, if every music video was filmed using Playmobil figures, there's a real chance I might never leave the house. 

Enjoy.