…for another waste of time post.
First, Love Actually. Some people hate it — Christine, for instance, detests Hugh Grant so much that you can hear the gag start before she finishes saying his name — but I adore it. Quotes:
Billy: Ask me anything you like; I’ll tell you the truth.
DJ: Uh, best shag you ever had?
Billy: Britney Spears.
Billy: (Snorts) Only kidding. She was rubbish.
Natalie: He said nobody was going to fancy a girl with thighs the size of big tree trunks. Not a nice guy, actually, in the end.
David: You know, being prime minister, I could just have him murdered.
Natalie: Thank you, sir, I’ll think about it.
David: Do. The SAS are absolutely charming. Ruthless, trained killers are just a phone call away.
David: Anyway, I’m not sure that politics and dating go together.
The President: Really? I’ve never found that.
Karen: Now, which doll shall we give Daisy’s little friend Emily? The one that looks like a transvestite, or the one that looks like a dominatrix?
Colin: Stateside, I am Prince William, without the weird family.
Daisy: We’ve been given our parts in the Nativity play.
Daisy: I’m the lobster.
Karen: The lobster?
Karen: In the nativity play?
Daisy: First lobster!
Karen: There was more than one lobster present at the birth of Jesus?
Second, how great is technology? I just got off the phone with Christine… well, off Skype with Christine. We talked for around an hour and a half for free with perfect clarity, which is way better than sending a letter that might get there six or eight weeks later, or typing an email that will be read whenever, or even chatting on an instant messenger. There’s something about hearing a friend’s voice. But isn’t it strange and wonderful to think of having a real-time conversation with someone who lives on the other side of the world?
Third, I love Anthony Bourdain. Love. Love, love, love. I may, in fact, be IN love with him. I adore his shows, though sadly I never get to watch them, being cable-less as I am. He is a genius with both a pan and a pen. I love him for the same reason I love Dr. House — he’s perfectly, often brutally, honest in every situation, and yet has these moments where he’s so human and tender and open. The mental censor works both ways, you see, so people who never filter what comes out of their mouths can’t filter what those around them have access to. And I couldn’t possibly agree more with his assessment of the Drunken Madam of the Brothel of Food-Adjacent Terrors, Sandra “COCKTAIL TIME!!!” Lee:
Pure evil. This frightening Hell Spawn of Kathie Lee and Betty Crocker seems on a mission to kill her fans, one meal at a time. She Must Be Stopped. Her death-dealing can-opening ways will cut a swath of destruction through the world if not contained. I would likely be arrested if I suggested on television that any children watching should promptly go to a wooded area with a gun and harm themselves. What’s the difference between that and Sandra suggesting we fill our mouths with Ritz Crackers, jam a can of Cheez Wiz in after and press hard? None that I can see. This is simply irresponsible programming. Its only possible use might be as a psychological warfare strategy against the resurgent Taliban–or dangerous insurgent groups. A large-racked blonde repeatedly urging Afghans and angry Iraqis to stuff themseles with fatty, processed American foods might be just the weapon we need to win the war on terror.
Honestly, people, in what universe is (pre-made angel food cake + canned frosting + only the white gum drops from 10 packages of gumdrops + approximately 7000 toothpicks) FOOD? Or (1 package white chocolate chips + 1/2 gallon whole milk + 1 pint heavy cream + 1 cup sugar + 1 bottle white chocolate liqueur + 2 cups peppermint schnapps) a DRINK? Her concoctions are stomach-turningly vile.
Judging from the processed sugar content of her… uh, let’s call them “recipes” just for the heck of it, she is either A) a meth addict; B) trying to buy her way to the top of C&H’s board of directors (which, combined with her penchant for extremely tv-inappropriate tops, makes me think she’s got her sights set on a CEO’s fortune, which would make her the Anna Nicole of the Food Network); C) suffering from the most severe case of hypoglycemia ever known to man; or D) an “Air-tarian,” meaning she has never consumed a single mouthful of the slop she throws together. Or possibly all of the above.
What the Food Network programmers seem not to understand is that their shows are meant to be aspirational — people are supposed to watch lovely Nigella or no-nonsense Alton or homey, friendly Ina and sigh fondly, dreaming of the day when they’ll be able to whip up lemony linguine or crisp fried chicken or juicy roast for their families. Rachael Ray, with her quick, decidedly un-gourmet family suppers, ought to be the lowest on this aspirational totem pole. But instead they dredge up Sandra Lee, who pimps out brand-name processed garbage and calls it “semi-homemade.” Microwaving Velveeta and taco seasoning inside a tortilla for 20 seconds hardly counts as dorm food, much less as semi-home-anything.
I could seriously go on and on about Stupid Sandra and her Domain of Processed Darkness, but I won’t…
Anyway, that’s about enough for one night. I’ve got another one in the hopper about food choices, stewardship of creation, and being an unrepentant omnivore, but it’s long enough that it’s going to have to wait. Movie quotes, technology, and Anthony Bourdain… I think that earns this post the label of “Random.”