Now Showing - "Pretty Brown" by David Campbell

It's always cool when a friend has something for me to feature on here. David is a wonderfully warm and funny poet-songwriter, whom I've had the pleasure to see and hear many times. Whenever I see him he's always so wonderfully supportive of me, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to return the favour.
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What The Hell?

Sorry to get all Kelly on you, but... Rick Mercer's gay!?!

I've been spending so much time in my tinfoil hat behind a Ouija board trying to make Jake Gyllenhaal pounce on Andy Samberg that I somehow missed the coming out of one of Canada's funniest, most influential men.

Plus, he's from Newfoundland, and he's H-O-T-T. (Or is that redundant?)

It's Friday, I'm ten posts away from #400, and now I find out this total hunk of funny likes cock. If this day gets any better I may...

I don't know what I'll do. The last time I had a day this good I was eight. I don't think I can remember that far back.
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Blog Fodder: Comment Te Dire Bonjour

Yesterday, I left a comment on Joe.My.God. in response to a post entitled "The Junior Voguer", of a little kid dancing his heart out. The video had garnered some pretty typically hateful comments on YouTube, which seemed to leave a few of Joe's readers stymied. (What is this 'homo-phobia' of which you speak?) It read, in part:

Welcome to YouTube and the Fred Phelps Nation. Set one foot outside of Chelsea and it's "Welcome to the rest of the world".

My comment received the following response from a fellow reader:

Michael Sean: If that sentence expresses your worldview, I agree it's probably an excellent idea for all concerned that you never step one foot outside of Chelsea.

Interesting.

As usual I blame myself. All I'm trying to do through my work is foster a greater understanding of the world and of my place in it. Obviously, I failed to do that in this case. I visited his blog, and he seems like a pretty nice guy. A bit naive for his age, but if naivete is the greater part of idealism, and he's managed to keep a scrap, I say good for him. I'd had mine beaten out of me by the time I was 10, and, alas, it's a non-renewable resource.

Of course, had he bothered to visit my blog he'd have seen that I've never even set one foot into Chelsea, and that if I tried to go there I'd probably be chased away by a roving band of twinks, simply for being a troll. Still, I'd like to thank him for the opportunity to post something here that isn't about a) foreign royalty, b) hot guys, or c) a bunch of other people I'll never meet.

And Joe, if you ever read this, thanks you for not banning me from your Comments section (at least not yet). You and I don't always see eye-to-eye (I mean, why would we? Why would we want to?) It seems to me that differences of opinion are what make us interesting to each other, and I'm honoured that you allow me to keep throwing in my two cents' worth.

[Instant Update: The original post I wrote just disappeared into cyberspace. This one has been re-created from memory; I haven't had lunch yet, so I wasn't altogether successful. It's just as well, as the original contained intemperance, a quality within myself I am constantly striving to overcome. It was also wordy, which is another burden I must learn to eschew. Plus so many layered references it was like a strudel made by Dennis Miller. It was pretty cool though, I'll have to admit. Whomever is responsible for such things (ie The Internet Fairy) was obviously on my side this afternoon.]
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I (Heart) Lily Tomlin

When I first saw Lily Tomlin in David O. Russell's "Flirting With Disaster" I was blown away that someone would cast her as a burned out old hippie in New Mexico married to Alan Alda and running a meth lab in the basement. I mean, it's so surreal, how could you not love that?

I have yet to see "I (Heart) Hucakabees", but only because it's not ten years old yet. That's about how long it takes me to get around to seeing these things. I think, though, I'll go out on payday and pick it up. If only because news of tension on the set has suddenly exploded all over the Internet, and at YouTube especially, and because I wanted to see it anyway, and now I have a reason. These two scenes are suddenly fraught with subtext, which may be what the director was going for all along.

I've always loved Lily Tomlin, mainly because she seems to be so commonsensical and calm, in a world ruled by temperament. David O. Russell, on the other hand, comes off as an asshat. In the old days, news of tension on this set and that set were transmitted by whispers. So and so knows the cousin of the hairdresser, and told me... Like that. Nowadays, everyone has a Panaflex built into their Blackberry, and as a result we are all of us expected to be ready for our closeup at a moment's notice; except that none of these people is exactly Cecil B. deMille.

I know well the effects of bullying, and they show in Miss Tomlin's behaviour, especially in the scene in the car. A person can only take so much before they lash out, and here Lily has had enough. I won't embed them here, because I don't condone this kind of behaviour (even - or especially - when it's me), but I will link to them, for as long as they're up.

In the first one (and I don't know if this scene came earlier than the other - it's just my guess) Lily is still quite calm. In the second is where she really loses it. I mean, she's lashing out at Dustin Hoffman, which is a bit like kicking a puppy: you don't do it unless you're really pissed off, and maybe not even then.

The comments at YouTube are pretty predictable. "The fucking Jew hag had it coming to her" is typical for the troglodytes who frequent the comments section. Apparently, a grown man shouting "Act like a grownup" while having a temper tantrum is alright, though. Still, I gotta love the 'Tube, and I still (heart) Lily Tomlin.
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