not in our stars, but in ourselves
1. This has cheered me up a lot:
2. Brexit continues to be very bad. I don’t claim to understand all the intricacies of it, but I do see that Jeremy Corbyn – the leader of the Labour party – is getting attacked by the right and from by own fellow Labour MPs. Now, listen. I’ve heard from people in the UK who think he’s not a strong enough leader to guide the Labour party through this goddamn nightmare world, and maybe that’s true. But it also seems that well-connected, well-fed, insulated, clueless, toffy-nosed gits are seizing on this opportunity to punch left rather than examine their own flaws and focus on attacking an increasingly virulent, nationalist, racist right. Hmmmmmm. Now why does that sound familiar? Can’t quite place it. Darn.
3. The only good thing in this awful world is the Old Friends Senior Dog Sanctuary.
4. According to a fuckwit, The Shallows is better than The Birds because of identity politics or something. I mean…I hear that The Shallows is surprisingly good, but can you imagine being dumb enough to think that a movie with Blake Lively is better than one of the top Hitchcock movies? And specifically because the Blake Lively movie conforms to your 2016 notions of Male Ally Feminism? Like, mate, fuck off. Delete your account. Et caetera.
5. I’ve continued my debasement by watching the last episode of the dragon show. It was a good episode. I’m not complaining. If I were Sansa, I’d have thrown Littlefinger a fuck before telling him that I’d never be his girl – but hey, different strokes. Naturally, there are about 8 million takes out there about how HRC is Khaleesi, but did you see the episode? HRC is Cersei. No fucking question. She will take the most brutal fucking approach to dealing with anyone who crosses her, with hardly a thought for what will come after. Like, are you Beltway hacks watching the same show? Jesus.
6. The other night, Dinner at Eight was on TCM, so I watched it, and it was loads of fun. Someday, I will achieve my final form, and I’ll be Marie Dressler. Stay tuned.
FUN TRIVIA about another star of the film: back in the 1920s, Dorothy Parker was a theatre critic for Vanity Fair. In one review, she noted Billie Burke’s thick ankles. Burke was the lover of one of Condé Nast’s friends, and she pressured him to pressure Nast to have Dottie fired. Dottie was not happy, of course, but she left and picked herself up again. Some time later, she ran into Nast in the lobby of a hotel (probably the Algonquin, but I forget). She was polite, as she always was to people’s face, and they made small talk. He told her that he was leaving on a cruise soon, and wasn’t it a pity she wouldn’t be able to join him. Of course, she agreed, what a pity. As soon as he walked away, she muttered, “Dear God, I hope that boat sinks.”