Happy Memorial Day

To all my American friends and readers, have a safe and happy Memorial Day long weekend.
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Now Showing - "Thank God You're Here"

The premise is simple: take an actor, put them in an odd costume, then let them walk through a door into a scene about which they have no foreknowledge, where they will be forced to improvise in front of a live studio audience for 5 minutes. For them, it must be excruciating, and occasionally for us it is as well. But when it works it's hilarious.

It's an Australian show, so I have no idea who any of these people are.

(I also learned that there's no Burger King in Australia; it's called Hungry Jacks there. Too right!)
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My Greatest Challenge Yet

I know I should be blogging, but the sun is out and my neighbourhood is full of men in shorts. You should see the parade of fuzzy stems passing my window.

Come to think of it, I'm better off inside. Best to leave the ankle-biting and shin-humping to dogs, I say.

On top of that, (in case you couldn't tell by the tone of this post) this is what's officially known as "the silly season". Summertime, when the living is easy, fish are jumping, cotton is high, and all that hoo-hah, plus trying to drag news out of anyone is like trying to drag a cogent argument out of Elisabeth Hasselbeck.

The problem seems to have two solutions: a) more photo essays (because they've always proven popular, I keep taking photos, and I'm pretty good at writing them), and b) more movie and book reviews. These prove a little more difficult, because it's hard to review a thing and not be judgemental.

Why the sudden reticence with regards to being judgemental, you might ask, if you know me? To which I would answer, in the proud history of reasonable debate here at the Pop Culture Institute, "Shut up".

I like to try and do different things here, as well as trying to do things differently. I don't mind a bad review if it's accurate, but I've read alot of hatchet jobs that were just filthy with someone's opinion, and the criticism was entirely unwarranted. You know the kind I mean. "Adam Sandler's Happy Gilmore is hardly Citizen Kane." Well, duh!

So I guess it's more screenings and more "Books Wormed" for the time being. Now if only I had a book to read around here somewhere...

(turns around, trips over a pile of books, falls headlong into a larger pile, which causes a third, even larger pile to fall on him)
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Trafalgar Square Becomes Trafalgar Park

This weekend, at least, going down to Trafalgar Square for grass won't necessarily involve breaking the law.

As part of a promotion attempting to draw people out of the congested heart of London and into its green spaces, more than 2000 square metres of turf were laid in the iconic plaza. After two days, the turf will be reused at Bishop's Park in Hammersmith and Fulham.

I love the idea of this promotion. I have long been a supporter of intra-city tourism, not that such a thing is that easy to do in a city as small as Vancouver. But for London the idea is dead brilliant.

[S O U R C E]
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The Wacky World of Widgets

Some of you may have noticed the "now you see it, now you don't" widget from Last.fm that this page has been sporting, directly beneath my Links.

Well, it's supposed to list the tracks I'm listening to as I'm listening to them, and when it does it's great.

The problem is, it only seems to do it when it feels like it, and it didn't feel like it more often than it did. So I've removed it for good this time, and I don't think I'll be suckered into putting it up again. The last thing this page needs is an unreliable widget, given how unreliable our editorial policy is.

Meanwhile, the search continues for more widgets, preferably ones that actually work...
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Hugh Laurie, OBE

It's not such an awfully long way from the Cambridge Footlights to Buckingham Palace, especially if you're Hugh Laurie.

The star of TV's House, as well as A Bit of Fry and Laurie, Black Adder, not to mention Jeeves & Wooster (as well as numerous movies) has visited the Queen at home and come away with a lovely parting gift.

What gets me is why so many in the media have taken to calling him an "unlikely" sex symbol. Sure he may be a little grizzled, but that voice, those eyes...

Open wide and say "Ahhh" indeed.
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700 Reasons To Celebrate

For all that I'm attempting to be earnest here, I'd be the first to admit that a blog is bullshit.

This, for instance, is my 700th post. Or is it? Because I have always deleted posts and reposted old posts and added posts months after the fact (not to mention posts I have written then never posted) this is not the 700th time I've sat down at my desk and written something that's appeared here. Yet this is, for all intents and purposes, my 700th post.

The purpose of the Pop Culture Institute has always been to enlighten and to entertain. 'Enlightertainment' I guess you could call it if, like me, you're one of those annoying people who likes to mash together two words like some meme-crazed neologist.

But another purpose has always been to make this blog a sort of perpetual calendar of Pop Culture. The Bonnie & Clyde post appearing below as well as "Happy Birthday Joan Collins" will, in all likelihood, appear on this blog on this date next year and the year after that. I may change the text or the photo, I may even add another "On This Day" or another birthday, if I can find a format that's pleasing to me, but there you have it.

This will mean that next year I may have the luxury to write fewer posts, but more in-depth ones. I know, I know... Depth? In a blog? It's crazy to even suggest it, I know, but there you have it.

As an expression of my personality, the Pop Culture Institute functions brilliantly. It is smart right up to the point where it's expected to be smart, at which point it becomes a twit. Just when you think you can't take anymore boasting and pomposity - BAM! - there's a bit of self-loathing. Just like... Uh... Someone or other.

I've always believed that Pop Culture is the People's History. Having read more history books than I care (or dare) to count, I can tell you that history is alot of dry old facts about politicians and generals, and is of no interest to anyone other than historians. It's no wonder most people have little sense of their history.

Pop Culture, on the other hand - so shallow, so easily denigrated - has been and always will be endlessly fascinating, because it is about people. True, sometimes those people will be politicians and generals, but they're just as likely to be housewives or pop stars or criminals too.

I've come pretty far, given that it's only my 700th post. I've often contemplated giving up, but I just can't bring myself to do it. In trying to create something unique and durable (or at least as durable as alot of pixels can be) I've built something I love more than anything else I've ever done. I only hope I feel as upbeat after my 7000th post as I do right now.

Thanks for reading.
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Well Whattaya Know?!

Church Sign Generator is perhaps the greatest website ever.
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Books Wormed: "The Wind in the Willows" by Kenneth Grahame

[Illustration of Toad Hall by David K. Stone (Golden Press, NY, 1968)]

I hear it often enough: "Why do you keep buying books if you haven't read all the ones you have?" Usually I shrug or change the subject, because if I gave the answer I want to - "Shut the Hell up!" - I'd have even fewer friends than I already do.

The real answer, though, is that I believe in everything in its time. Often I like to read multiple books on the same subject back to back, for the sake of immersion. Also, just because I buy a book now doesn't mean I feel like reading it now; I may feel like reading it at 2 AM 10 months from now, only then I may not have the money, and I definitely won't have anyplace to buy it. Vancouver, far from being a city that never sleeps, often goes to bed early.

Of all the books in my library, The Wind in the Willows surely holds the record for delayed gratification.

I've had it since I was at least eight years old; I've schlepped it everywhere with me over the years, through dozens of moves and over thousands of kilometres, yet in all that time I've never even thought about relinquishing it. I've read the first chapter a dozen times at least, but could never bring myself to read beyond than that.

Despite this, I read it on Saturday in one sitting. Why? Simply because its time had come.

And I loved it, of course, as I knew I someday would. Children's literature is oddly soothing (even when it is raucous) and I've been sore in need of soothing lately. Also, the book is rich in poetry, voluble in its praise of the natural world, and May-time in Vancouver is both of these things as well. As a human and an artist, I decided it was finally time to enfold the book's lessons into my life. This time, when I got to the end of the first chapter, I pushed on...

Though The Wind in the Willows is a children's book, children in 1908 were clearly extra smart compared with even adults today. Based on vocabulary alone, it would have been impossible for me to read before now, even if I were to read it at my desk with the ample resources of the Internet handy. Besides an abundance of British-isms, every interaction in the book is subtextually layered, and these layers would have been lost on me until recently.

It is also quite racy for a children's book, unaffected by a puritan urge to protect children from the truth which has infected KidLit of late. Characters smoke and drink (responsibly), firearms are discharged (though no one is killed), and there is even the suggestion of carnality (albeit of the Edwardian, heavily euphemised variety) between a certain Toad and his jailer's daughter. The Toad even gets up in drag, as fine a British tradition as drinking and smoking if ever there was one.

I find it odd that such real-life behaviours should be so frowned upon, yet anthropromorphism - a far more serious crime, really - nevertheless forms the backbone of much children's media.

Inasmuch as everything ever written by the British can be read as a parable about class, The Wind in the Willows does not disappoint. The wealthy Toad is also boastful, incautious, and fickle. Though Badger is heroic, much is made of the common way he speaks. It is Mole and Rat, both firmly middle class, who save the day.

They did, of course, save Kenneth Grahame's day. The immediate success of the book allowed him to quit his job in a bank and depart it for another bank altogether, a river bank - specifically the Thames - where he whiled away his days "messing about in boats" and listening the the wind of the willows, which to his ears, must have sounded like cheering.
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All. Up. In. That.

Damn my workaholic, overspending self! Instead of schlepping around some oil-soaked parking lot in the pouring rain I could have been eating cheese at the Pike Place Market.

Of course, Seumas was in Vancouver this weekend, so I would have had no place to stay. Then again, with me eating cheese all day, I'm sure I woulld have had to sleep on the balcony anyway.

Now, thanks to the insatiable craving for cheese their website has given me, I'm going to be a wreck.

Cheese, cheese, cheese cheese, cheese...

[S e a t t l e s t]
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Closer To Home...

13-year-old Chris Poeung was fatally stabbed Saturday night by a 14-year-old at Main Street/Science World SkyTrain station in Vancouver after an altercation involving a girl. Mr. Poeung wasn't directly involved in the brawl, however. Police describe the event as a "school yard type fight" and a "brawl" involving about 10 kids aged 13 to 15 and another 30 or so spectators.

The assailants were arrested a short time later, only a few blocks away; they were apprehended on a bus, and have been charged with manslaughter.

Of all the SkyTrain stations, Main Street/Science World is definitely the most dangerous, at least appearance-wise. Scrawled with grafitti (and the efforts to remove it) it resembles nothing less than a slum. That it is in the shadow of the Vancity Building and the condos of Citygate makes it the perfect emblem for Vancouver's growing disparity of wealth and poverty.

There have been a rash of attacks at SkyTrain stations in Vancouver lately, several of which occurred when there were no constables on site. Even though time after time studies have shown that a disproportionate amount of the city's crime happens at or around these stations, Transit Police have proven ineffective at dealing with it.

[S O U R C E]
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Who Killed Glen Davis?

Police in Toronto say someone targeted and killed millionaire philanthropist and nature conservationist Glen Davis on Friday - and that he had been attacked before, by a man with a baseball bat, in December 2005 - but refused to say speculate on motives in either case or to even link the two attacks.

The assault remains unsolved, but police said they will reopen the file and reinvestigate to see if the two events are linked.



The man in this photo is "a person of interest" in the case; he is described as a white male in his late 20s. Mr. Davis was killed at around 2 PM in a parking structure near Eglinton Ave. E. and Mount Pleasant Rd. Any information regarding this case should be directed to the police department or Crimestoppers.
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Now Showing - Chad Vader: Day Shift Manager (Episode 3)

Previously, on the Pop Culture Institute...

[EPISODE 1] [EPISODE 2]
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So. Many. Fergies.

Just like the first time a picture of Madonna and Lourdes was captioned "Madonna and Child", those of us in the shallow trench that is celebreportage have been eagerly awaiting the first appearance together of Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York, and Stacy Ferguson, Black-Eyed Pea.

They have more in common than their names, honestly. Uh... They're both... Female?
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Why Was Pam Booed At Cannes?

When I first heard of this, I assumed it's because the French are leg men.

It turns out they felt she was rude. Apparently no one is allowed to be rude in France.

She showed up late for a photo call and refused to be a party to the madness of such a thing. Why, then, even bother going?

[S O U R C E]
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Musing Aloud...

I've often wondered what, if anything, conservatives are in favour of conserving.

Certainly, when it comes to cutting down trees and covering everything with pavement, they're the first ones in line. Yet one clear difference between then and now is surely that then there was more wilderness than there is now.

Similarly, conservatives seem to have little or no regard for our architectural heritage, preferring instead to mow down whole blocks of lovely character homes - which could benefit from conservation - in favour of block after block of soulless apartment buildings. As with our natural environment, the movement to preserve our built environment is spear-headed mainly by lefties.

The only thing conservatives seem to be in favour of conserving is some version of the past (ie: the good old days) that simply never existed. The 1950s, of all decades, is one most right (as in correct) thinking people should wish to see consigned to heaps of memorabilia in museums.

I understand that change brings with it fear, and that some people don't deal well with fear. Conservatism seems to be the worst way of all, because it denies the very real phenomenon that change is inevitable. Rather than accepting that, and growing from it, they seek to suppress and crush it.

The one kind of "growth" conservatives do support is the growth of the economy, and in order to do that it seems increasingly necessary to destroy, whether it's forests or worker's rights or dreams. And as for growing the economy, a willing well-paid workforce is key, and the only such pool of talent remaining appears to be immigrants.

The Bible exhorts all Christians to be "stewards of the Earth"; so how does hating on so-called minorities preserve the planet? Clearcuts cause erosion, not Muslims. Factories and cars cause pollution, not gays and lesbians. As for what causes change, look no further than free will.

I wonder what it'll take to cause conservatives to start conserving things...
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Newsflash: BC Liberals Value Money Over Wildlife

BC's Liberal Government plans to capture the estimated 16 spotted owls remaining in the wild and put them in zoos for purposes of breeding, Environment News Service is reporting.

This is because the BC government values the destruction of old growth forest over the preservation of either habitat of wildlife stock.

But capturing birds to breed in captivity to then release them back into the wild doesn't seem to be the most reasonable plan when there'll be no more habitat for them to return to. Habitat fragmentation remains unaddressed by government policy, specifically because the Liberals altered the existing policy to disregard it.

The plan has been leaked to the media by the Western Canada Wilderness Committee, which is trying to compel the Federal government to use the Species at Risk Act to preserve the owls and their habitat, which should go well. The Tories love wildlife like I love sarcasm.

I wish someone would put the BC Liberal government in captivity, although the thought of them breeding fairly turns my stomach.

[S O U R C E]
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Screened: "The Princess Comes Across" (1936)

When first we see Carole Lombard in The Princess Comes Across, she is vamping. Hard. "My name iss Princess Olga of Sveeden," she says, staring - nay, glaring - down her nose in the iciest way possibly, sounding for all the world like Great Garbo.

And there's me, in the dark in more ways than one, thinking: "What the F?"

Lombard is a workhorse among comediennes; she keeps up the Garbo shtick throughout most of the first act, so convincingly, in fact, that once the initial shock is worn off you almost start believing her. When finally her ruse is exposed, though, it's a relief; running gags of this nature tend to be a bit tiring for the viewer. Waiting for the other shoe to drop can become stressful, which can erode the whole "comedy" thing.

It is, however, an apt metaphor for the movie as a whole, because nothing (and indeed, no one) in The Princess Comes Across is as they seem.

In addition to the ample surprises to follow (which, for an avid viewer of 30s movies such as myself, well-acquainted with all the formulae inherent therein, is reason enough to watch) there are a handsome leading man (Fred MacMurray) whose lithe frame is fitted out in all manner of yummy suits, a pair of reliable villains (Porter Hall and Douglass Dumbrille), and a veteran character actress (Alison Skipworth), with whom all and sundry may toss around barbs.

There's even an appearance by a future television legend - seen here years before the advent of the device that would bring about his most enduring fame: William Frawley, better known as Fred Mertz of I Love Lucy, is to MacMurray what Skipworth is to Lombard - a cynically wise sidekick.

Naturally, being of its era, the film is stylishly photographed, and though it's set almost entirely onboard a ship the sets are lovely.

The Princess Comes Across is, in many ways, an odd movie, one which doesn't lend itself to a single viewing perhaps. Since it eschews (indeed, thumbs its nose at) convention to a large extent, as well as trying to wring comedy out of murder, it might be uncomfortable for some to watch.

So is it a funny movie with creepy moments, or a thriller with levity? Whether it's both or neither, it is a curiosity nonetheless.
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Verka Serduchka Keeps Me Dancing

Thanks to Joe.My.God I've been grooving out to Verka Serduchka all week. I mean, "accordion techno"? What's not to love?

Ms. Serduchka (actually Andriy Danylko) performed at the Eurovision Song Contest in Helsinki recently, with a glitterball-inspired performance of Dancing Lasha Tumbai. Members of the Ukrainian Parliament have been hating on Serduchka for months now, calling his performances "grotesque and vulgar". As opposed to politics, I suppose, which is all kittens and roses. Don't get me started.

The song eventually came in second, but it came first in my heart, for what it's worth.

If all the notoriety gets to be too much for Danylko/Serduchka, he/she/they can always move to Canada, where a tubby Ukrainian can become famous. Just look at Luba Goy.

In case you missed it...

Campy, yes... But I like it too.
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Now Showing - "Kingswood Country"

Yesterday, while recovering from my kidney stone, I decided that I felt like watching YouTube. Not content to watch the same old same old I made a stab in the dark, and typed in "Australian sitcom". This is what I got: Kingswood Country.

It's not terribly good, although it's apparently based on Til Death Do Us Part, the Britcom which so memorably inspired All In The Family. Well, I've seen Til Death Do Us Part and I've seen All In The Family. Kingswood Country is neither.

Then again, Australia isn't known for its sitcoms. I may do some further research and/or watching. The available clips don't exactly bristle with references, although according to Wikipedia the show was topical.

(The title seems to be a reference to Kingswood, a suburb on the western edge of Sydney, as much as a car of the same name.)
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Kocis Murder Solved?

As reported on the Pop Culture Institute on 26 January 2007...

It looks like the murder of Bryan Charles Kocis, the owner of gay porn studio Cobra Video, may have been solved.

Two models employed by Kocis have been charged with "criminal homicide, conspiracy to commit criminal homicide, abuse of corpse, robbery, burglary, theft and two counts of arson" according to Towleroad. Kocis' body was found with a cut throat and multiple stab wounds inside his burning house.

Harlow Raymond Cuadra and Joseph Manuel Kerekes are being held at Virginia Beach Detention Center.

[S O U R C E]

Previously, on the Pop Culture Institute...

Cobra Video Owner Murdered
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Harry NOT Going To Iraq

UPDATE: The Army's chief-of-staff admitted that press reaction was one of the reasons he decided against sending Harry to Iraq. Way to go, fellow muck-rakers!

The army has finally accepted what you and I have known for months - that not only would Prince Harry be in danger in Iraq, so would everyone in proximity to him. The notion of a soldier in a war zone needing bodyguards (which was suggested) is ludicrous.

It was probably all a ploy anyway, a bit of sabre-rattling. Maybe Prince Harry even wanted to serve, but the inevitable camaraderie of Sandhurst must be tempered by the possibility that the threats received against his person would have been carried out.

[S O U R C E]

Previously, on the Pop Culture Institute...

- Britain Offering Terrorists Plum Hostage
- Egregious Paranoia Department - HRH Prince Harry
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Le whoops!

In a maneuver that will forevermore be known as the Duceppe Two-Step, Bloc Qubecois leader Gilles Duceppe entered the race for leader of the provincial Parti Quebecois only to withdraw less than 24 hours later.

Duceppe explained his error away as 'a mistake'. Rather like his support for sovereignty.

[S O U R C E]
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Screened: "Dancing Lady" (1933)

Few movies have come to me as highly recommended as Dancing Lady. Now, normally a rave review is enough to send me running - in the other direction. Seeing as this rave came from my film buff friend Norman I decided to give it a try. I mean, come on, it's a 30s movie. At its worst, how bad could it be?

It was, in fact, better than the best. A backstage musical in the tradition of 42nd Street (which was released the same year), Dancing Lady dazzles from the first shot to the last. Partly this is a result of the painstakingly restored print, but mainly it's due to its beautiful cast brilliantly executing incisive dialogue.

Of course, there's a love triangle. Jane Barlow (Joan Crawford) can't decide between wealthy Tod Newton (Franchot Tone) and fellow theater rat Patch Gallagher (Clark Gable). Lucky bitch. In real life, of course, Joan didn't have to decide. She married Tone and had a torrid affair with Gable. To reiterate: lucky bitch.

I always enjoy seeing these big stars on their way up, as contemporary audiences might. Often I'll see a huge star and wonder how they got so big, since once they get to the top they rest on their laurels a bit before they start their long coast down. Well, it's immediately obvious here. Crawford is beautiful in a Hilary Swank way (and can she ever dance!), Tone is dapper and charming in a blond sort of way, and Gable... Gable is in a class all his own. Not for nothing did they call him "The King".

Dancing Lady also marks the film debut of Fred Astaire, at the time already well-known from Broadway, where he danced with his sister Adele. The Three Stooges also appear, bringing the odd moment (and I do mean odd) of slapstick (and I do mean slap) to the proceedings. Blink and you might miss Eve Arden (as a blonde - I recognised her by her voice alone), May Robson, and Robert Benchley. Nelson Eddy (minus Jeannette MacDonald - thankfully) camps his way through one number, and there are throughout the film the usual bevy of scantily clad vintage lovelies, if you're into that sort of thing.

MGM was the usual purveyor of such high-gloss glamour and boy do they deliver it in this one. It's like everything in the movie has been dipped in Shinola. In fact, I hadda watch it twice, because the first time I was so blown away I couldn't remember any of the specifics, like character names.

I have a feeling Dancing Lady will be screened again and again her at the Pop Culture Institute.
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God Finally Strikes Down Jerry Falwell

Jerry Falwell (seen here praying that all gay people and the friends and family who love them would die) was found unresponsive and unconscious at his desk this morning. Some news outlets are already reporting that he's dead.

Before he discovered gay people, Reverend Falwell supported racial segregation, and in his pithy way often referred to the "Civil Wrongs" movement. He also founded the Moral Majority, which was neither.

In keeping with our policy of hating on haters, Pop Culture Institute would like to wish this paragon of evil a nice journey in Hell. God, who could not be reached for comment, has issued no statement on why it took so long.
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E'rybody Say "Awww"!

I, for one, cannot resist a baby animal. Why would I want to?

This Canada gosling was sunning on the beach on Saturday (while I was waiting for the ferry to Nanaimo) with two siblings and Mama guarding one flank and Papa guarding the other.

Personally, I think they were all enjoying the attention.
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"Michael Tolliver Lives"

As will often happen, while researching the previous post I made a discovery so incredible I almost couldn't finish the last post because I was so excited to write this one.

June 1st, 2007, marks the US publication date of a new book by Armistead Maupin entitled - you guessed it - Michael Tolliver Lives. It's been nearly 20 years since Sure Of You completed the run of Tales of the City, and now finally comes word of the seventh book in this beloved series.

This from the publisher:

Michael Tolliver, the sweet-spirited Southerner in Armistead Maupin's classic "Tales of the City" series, is arguably one of the most widely loved characters in contemporary fiction. Now, almost twenty years after ending his groundbreaking saga of San Francisco life, Maupin revisits his all-too-human hero, letting the 55-year-old gardener tell his story in his own voice.

Having survived the plague that took so many of his friends and lovers, Michael has learned to embrace the random pleasures of life, the tender alliances that sustain him in the hardest of times. "Michael Tolliver Lives" follows its protagonist as he finds love with a younger man, attends to his dying fundamentalist mother in Florida, and finally reaffirms his allegiance to a wise octogenarian who was once his landlady.

While "Michael Tolliver Lives" is a stand alone novel, accessible to old and new readers alike, a reassuring number of familiar faces appear along the way. As usual, the author's mordant wit and ear for pitch-perfect dialogue serve every aspect of the story— from the bawdy to the bittersweet. "Michael Tolliver Lives" is a novel about the act of growing older joyfully and the everyday miracles that somehow make that possible.
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Screened: "Stella Dallas" (1937)

The reputation of the film Stella Dallas as a paragon of motherlove suffers, mainly because such a label both reduces and disguises what the film is really about.

Poor Stella Martin (Barbara Stanwyck), the daughter of a millhand and a drudge (an all-too-brief appearance by Marjorie Main), is an ambitious girl. Entranced by a story of lost love in the weekend photo supplements, she sets out to woo and wed its swain, Stephen Dallas, played by the handsome John Boles.

That she succeeds is a foregone conclusion. That she then transforms herself into a scheming social climber would be easily explained away if the birth of her daughter Laurel (later played as a teenager by Anne Shirley) didn't turn her overnight into the kind of woman whose own thwarted ambitions are sublimated onto her daughter. Stella doesn't seem to know who or what she is, which may also be part of the problem, although it is unaddressed in the film.

Much of this is the fault of the author, Olive Higgins Prouty, whose feminism is unfortunately nearly always smothered in the kind of melodrama that would suffocate a Victorian. Prouty was later to tout psychotherapy in another potboiler made into a tear-jerker (Now, Voyager), but it seems Stella Dallas could use a session or two on the couch as well.

After marrying and becoming Mrs. Stephen Dallas, then having her daughter, Stella can't seem to catch a break. She wants the swell life but doesn't like the swell people who come with it, and they decidedly don't like her. She talks of wanting to be refined, but makes no effort to do so, mainly because the man who loves her tells her not to change. Stella's friendship with Ed Munn (a blowhard played with great verve by Alan Hale) seems to play an equal part in her downfall, inasmuch as Munn seems to have a habit of putting Stella in awkward situations which Stella, for her part, can't or won't explain away.

When Stephen Dallas is shopping for Laurel's birthday present one day, long after he and Stella have separated, he meets his old flame (Helen Dane Morrison, played by Barbara O'Neil), which is bad enough. When it's shortly revealed that she's a widow this rapidly becomes as heart-breaking a scene as any in the film. Gradually, of course, Laurel is won over, and soon Stella is given the onerous task of driving her own beloved daughter away for her own good.

True, there is much in here about a mother's love and sacrifice, but the film's subliminal message seems to rail against social climbing and dating outside of one's class. Since Stella is referred to consistently as an excellent seamstress, it would seem that a truly feminist message would be that Stella should open a dress shop, and so gain her entree to so-called "polite society" in that way. Then again, despite her ability with a needle, much is made of the garish way Stella uses those talents.

If such a suggestion were made by Mrs. Prouty in the novel, it is not present in the film. In fact, I would be eager to read the book, if only because it might serve to flesh out the inner life of its heroine better than a film portrayal can hope to. Not that Stanwyck doesn't try, and in fact, this confusion over her identity may have been intentional.

I doubt anyone but Stanwyck could have played such emotions so naturally, but play them she does, and for all they're worth too. Several times she lets conflicting emotions loose across her face, and it's as much a testament to the clarity of DVD technology as it is to Stanwyck's abilities that we actually get to see them all.

In the film's famous final scene, a bedraggled Stella crowds her way to a window at the Dallas' townhouse, and there witnesses her daughter's marriage. Just to add insult to poor Stella's misery, it's pouring rain; then, for punctuation, she is given the bum's rush by a cop with a truncheon.

It's Mother's Day, so I'll go easier on the film than Mrs. Prouty was on the character. Love and sacrifice are excellent qualities in anyone, including a mother; martyrdom and the subsumation of a woman's identity for her children... Not so much. While there is much to be admired in this production (it's an excellent movie) it serves a modern audience best as a curio, rather than a model.
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RIP King Malietoa Tanumafili II of Samoa

His Highness was the oldest head of state in the world; he died Friday aged 94 in hospital in the Samoan capital, Apia. He was also the world's third longest reigning monarch, behind Bhumibol of Thailand (1946) and Elizabeth II (1952), having come to the throne in 1962.

[S O U R C E]
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BC Ferries: Cruising The Straits

Well, this is the thanks I get for going off half-cocked.

It turns out my big day trip to Nanaimo was a flop, so rather than dwell on the failure of it, I have chosen to look upon it as a) a learning experience, b) a fact-finding mission, and c) an excuse to have a lovely boat ride and take a lot of pretty pictures.

In fact, I took enough pictures to do three or four photo essays.

First, I should explain: the title isn't mine.

There is a legend (which many claim is true, which is the way it is with legends) that either in the 70s or in the 80s (legends not being known for their accuracy) BC Ferries commissioned that very slogan and either was about to or had already rolled out their ad campaign based around it, when someone explained to them what it meant.

Ever since, certain muck-raking bitches (myself proudly included), have refused to let the legend die. I would love to come into possession of some piece of proof that the story was true, and so I am making my wish upon the Internet, which has done so much for me thus far.

Maybe some day the evidence I seek will surface.



British Columbia's waters are very much working waters: the Port of Vancouver does a massive amount of the Nation's business, car and passenger ferries chug between the mainland and dozens of offshore islands (the largest of which is Vancouver Island) and fishing boats, whale-watching and other eco-tours, cruise ships, and pleasure craft make up the rest.

On this day I took the ferry from Horseshoe Bay, on the mainland, to Departure Bay in Nanaimo, which is on Vancouver Island. It sailed at 3 PM, arrived at 4:40, at which time I turned around and came back on the 5 PM, returning at 6:37 - three minutes early! It cost $11.50 to go, and $5.95 to return, plus $4.50 for bus fare there and back - $21.95 for a nice day out.



The ferries themselves can be quite large, but they are dwarfed by the sheer immensity of the Coast Mountains. The arrival and departure provide the best scenery (if you can find a spot at the rail between photographers) mainly because the boats are moving more slowly, but also because of the stretch of open water in the middle of the journey.

This is more pronounced on the southern route from Tswassen to Saanich/Victoria.

It can be furiously windy, too, as it was this day. As warm as it was on land, I was wishing I'd worn long pants once I was on the boat. Fortunately there are many places to go to warm up, and the amenities on the boats are ample.



Leaving Horseshoe Bay, the ferry gets a pretty spectacular view of Vancouver between the mainland (on the left) and Bowen Island (on the right). I was unprepared for this, as it had been 25 years since I'd last taken the trip. Also, 25 years ago, the view would not have looked quite like this. Our little city has certainly done some growing up!



Mid-water can be the most relaxing. The passage itself is a symphony of blue and grey tones at the best of times. This combined with the sea air and the gentle rocking motion is almost worth the fare itself. Since I have no time or money with which to travel, I was looking for an experience that would feel like travel, and I got it, right down to the relief at finally being home.



Approaching Nanaimo the spiny back of Vancouver Island looms up; some of these mountains are visible from Vancouver's English Bay (on very clear days). Though it is thought of as something of a backwater populated by yokels, this is a typically urban myth. Most of the people on Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands are refugees from the city.

Besides which, there are plenty of rednecks and yokels living right here in the city. I know this because, in my line of work, I either deal with them or work with them regularly.



I don't know anyone who's moved offshore, so I have no pied-a-terre on the Sunshine Coast as of yet. But some day, maybe... I keep telling myself that I'll one day rent a kayak and travel around these islands a little more intimately. I may yet do that as well.



I was surprised to see so much snow cover so late in the season. Though it's picturesque, it spells potential disaster if a heat wave hits, which has been known to happen in May. Some of the snow cover is glacial, though, in which case, I'd prefer it if it stayed right where it is.



I decided to end on a poignantly arty shot of a fishing boat sailing off into the sunset. I tweaked it a little, casting a golden hue over what was originally almost black and white. The BC fishery could use a little golden glow right now seeing as it, like all fisheries, is threatened.

I will get the trip to Nanaimo I originally planned, only next time I'll put a little more preparation into it. In the meantime I hope the pictures show that the day wasn't a total wash.
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HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

In answer to alla y'all who seem to think that I was hatched, or came from spores (you know who you are), I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to my mother, Penny.

In addition to being a community leader in Kelowna, serving as President of the Ladies Auxiliary of the Royal Canadian Legion there on several occasions, she is also personally involved in caring for the elderly in a palliative setting. She has always been a fervent animal welfare activist, having rescued the 10 cats which live with her, and dozens more from a thoughtless neighbour whose two became thirty or forty recently.

Though I have often cited my grandmother - her mother - as the greatest influence on my life, I would not be who I am without my mother's guidance. Her mistakes, as well as her successes, gave both my life and my ambitions their focus and drive. When I was younger I fought with her (often quite bitterly) and through it all she never once lost her cool, even though I was a real jerk. I guess I was testing her unconditional love. She passed that test, though, as that is the only way she knows how to love.

I can see now that even her mistakes were well-meaning, that I as a teenager turned her protection into smothering and her concern into censure. There were a few years there in which it was anybody's guess whether I would survive myself; I have no doubt I wouldn't have if it hadn't have been for her.

Mother's Day, then, is a very special one for me and always has been. In my heart, every day is Mother's Day.
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WTF: Purex Billboard, W. 8th & Ash

Normally, I am so inured to advertising that I can pretty well ignore it. Hell, I have to; I'm so suggestible I'll be in line at the Shopper's Drug Mart with the box of maxi-pads even before I realise what I'm doing. Nevertheless, my photographer's eye snagged on this ingenious bit of business one day recently when I was already late for work.

So out came the camera, followed by this shot, which was itself followed by several blocks of speedwalking to make up for lost time. In fact, I was so worried I'd be late for work, I could have used some Purex.

Hmm...
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Isn't It Funny?

Last week at lunch I was asking a great friend of this blog if, in his opinion, there was anything I could be posting about here that I haven't been. He said he couldn't think of anything. Personally, I think he was just being nice, because I thought of a couple things myself without hardly any effort.

The first of these: I mentioned to him that I'd often come across a birthday in my research that I was reluctant to headline as "Happy Birthday" since the person in question was dead. As I was wondering aloud how I might include them anyway I suggested posting them as "In Memoriam". Bang! An idea is born.

This was not the first time I've answered my own question; Hell, it wasn't even the first time last week.

Another thing that interests me that I don't blog about is movies, especially those from the 1930s. The post from a couple of days about "Thirty Day Princess" felt so good to write (and is just the sort of thing one might Google) that I've decided to do more of these.

A lot of blogs (such as Y|O|Y) cover new shows, and it's these posts which drive alot of traffic to their sites. Well, I'm not able to blog about new shows, due to my hectic and changeable work schedule, but I can go the other way, and chronicle the obscure, in hopes of luring those of similar taste into my clutches. Er, my, uh... Oh, let's face it, the only word that works is clutches.

Plus, if I can interest someone who isn't a fan, that'll be a bonus.

I just wanted to say thank you for Seumas, for being such a good sounding board, and Gavin as well, for obliquely giving me an idea that may yet elevate me into the next level of the blogosphere.
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If It Makes You Happy...

What a day for babies here at the Pop Culture Institute!

The day started with news of Dezi James and ended with news of Wyatt Steven, who was recently adopted by none other than Sheryl Crow herself.

[S O U R C E]
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Screened: "Thirty Day Princess" (1934)

Any qualms I may have had concerning the picture quality of "Thirty Day Princess" going into it were immediately dispelled as its credits began to roll.

Universal's film restorers are continuing to outdo themselves. This film couldn't have looked as good in its initial theatrical release as it does today on DVD. Despite a couple of obviously missing elements (which are nonetheless well-glossed over) both picture and sound here are peerless. There is a full-range of tones present, making the black-and-white photography look almost creamy.

The story is slight, a bit formulaic, but addresses the Depression (which is rare for a film of that era) and features a sprightly, nuanced performance by Sylvia Sidney and fine work both by Cary Grant and Edward Arnold, as a crusading newspaper editor and a plutocratic banker respectively. There's even a bit of split-screen, in which Nancy Lane and Princess Zizzi (both played by Sidney) get to play a scene together.

I'll never know why Sylvia Sidney wasn't a bigger star (in this film she's billed above the title, and Grant's is the first name below it). Then again, not being a blonde might have something to do with it. Still, from her first picture, 1929's "Thru Different Eyes" to her last film "Mars Attacks" (1996) she never seemed to hurt for work, mainly thanks to television.

Now I can't wait to get to the rest of "Screen Legends Collection: Cary Grant". Up next: "Kiss and Make Up" (1934), co-starring Genevieve Tobin.
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Blog Fodder - A Moment of Gloating

I have just read in Xtra West where BC Bears Society has decided to "hibernate" for awhile, due to declining membership. If I can be permitted a moment to gloat:

In 1999 I tried to join BC Bears Society. My (then-, now ex-) partner and I had just moved here and my social network took a commensurate hit; I was looking for something to join. Vancouver Pride Society and Out On Screen (the queer film festival) had both rejected me despite my sterling credentials for both.

I went to Pride Day that year and afterwards, at the community fair, I spotted the BC Bears table. When I approached it and asked about joining them the skinny guy working there looked me up and down and in the bitchiest, faggiest way told me to come back when I'd gained a hundred pounds.

Well, I must have been three hundred pounds that day, at least a hundred pounds heavier than this guy. The fact that I'd been met with the same attitude everywhere else (only everywhere else I'd been told to lose a hundred pounds, rather than gain it) was not lost on me.

Since I obviously didn't fit into mainstream gay and I wasn't going to be accepted even at the fringes of the community, I withdrew from all gay community activities at that point. Maybe that wasn't the most sensible course of action, but what else could I do? Why would I continue to fight to be included in something that had already rejected me so many times?

I decided that day to focus on those aspects of humanity that I thought might be more appreciative of my efforts, namely the arts and social justice. Within Pandora's Collective and even COPE I have managed to make my contribution to society in more meaningful ways; even if neither has done anything to enhance my sex life, Pandora's Collective has at least introduced me to many fine friends I wouldn't have met if I'd stayed on Davie Street.

I suspect many other men were rejected by BC Bears in a similarly callous manner, probably by this same volunteer, which is likely what led to the declining numbers at their meetings. I can't say I'm not glad to hear it; editorial policy permits me to freely gloat whenever snobs and bigots and any kind of petty tyrant gets their comeuppance.

For those men whose lifeline this community was, I do feel bad, though. May I suggest leaving your ghetto behind and traveling amongst regular people for awhile?

There. I'm done now.
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Welcome Dezi James Cubiche

Leggy "My Name is Earl" stunner Jaime Pressly and her DJ boyfriend (the similarly leggy, similarly stunning) Eric Cubiche welcomed a little bundle today. Dezi James was born in Los Angeles at 7:31 AM local time, and weighed in at 6 pounds 4 ounces. He's named after Desi Arnaz (despite the misspelling) and Pressly's father.
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There's Something About Cary

How an English homosexual named Archie Leach became the quintessentially American ladies man Cary Grant is a greater story than any of those he told on film during his prodigious career.

To the many "stars" whose careers fizzle after a decade or less, the over seventy films he made between 1933 and 1966 ought to serve as a primer on survival in Hollywood. They are romantic comedies, screwballs, dramas, and thrillers, and among them are some of the finest of their type ever made.

At a time when Hollywood's romantic leading men were infected with a bland sameness, Grant was a definite brand apart. In that way he was more akin with Gary Cooper and Humphrey Bogart than Robert Taylor and George Brent.

I just bought a 5-movie box set of his earlier works, into which I am about to dive. Despite being familiar with Grant's oeuvre, not one of these titles was familiar to me. Their leading ladies are, though: Sylvia Sidney, Genevieve Tobin, Myrna Loy, and Joan Bennett. I was a tiny bit reluctant to buy it, as it's not released by a major studio, and films from the early 30s are of a notoriously poor quality due to print degradation.

Ultimately, I don't care; I'll squint through grit if I have to, in order to gain this glimpse into the early career of an enduring Hollywood legend.
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RIP Dwight 'Percy' Wilson

As of today, Canada has one remaining veteran of the First World War.

The second-to-last, Dwight 'Percy' Wilson, died today at Toronto's Sunnybrook Hospital. He was 106.

The remaining Canadian veteran of the conflict - John Babcock - lives in Spokane, Washington.

[S O U R C E]
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Cause Of "Great Gray Malaise" Determined

Cranial examination of michael sean morris, director of the obscure blog Pop Culture Institute has revealed the source of the "great gray malaise" from which he was said to suffer.

"It turns out to be nothing more than existential angst, which exacerbated a pre-existing condition of Irritable Bowel Syndrome," morris said, when reached via email at the Institute's headquarters. "I found myself, night after night, sitting at the computer and wondering why I was doing it: writing, photography, blogging."

It seems spending all that time in your head isn't good for you, and then to spend most of it with your head up your ass only makes matters worse, especially if it irritates your bowel.

"It occurred to me," he continued, "That the most appropriate answer to 'Why?' is 'Why not?' The most successful people in show business are obviously not hindered by such angst. Otherwise there wouldn't be anything on TV. They just continue to churn it out."

Having discovered the source of his ailment, morris said he plans to move ahead on all the projects he'd planned, including an expanded blog, sitcoms, and novels. "Now that I don't always have to stop myself and think 'what's the point' I can continue to clutter the public consciousness with more useless memes and annoying catchphrases. As well as bringing my readers the best of such things from around the world and throughout time."

He concluded: "It's an exciting time."
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Queen and President: Duelling Speeches

On her last night in Washington, Elizabeth II hosted a return banquet at the British Embasssy for the President and First Lady.

To make a toast, Her Majesty rose first:

Mr. President, I wondered whether I should start this toast saying, "When I was here in 1776" -- (laughter and applause.)

Mr. President, it is a real pleasure to welcome you and Mrs. Bush here this evening. Over our six days in the United States, we have much enjoyed the chance to dwell on the history of the relationship between our two countries, as well as celebrating its present strength and vitality. I would like to thank everyone for the warmth and kindness extended to us.

I would also like to take this opportunity, on the day that has seen the formal transfer of power to the devolved Northern Ireland government, to thank you and your predecessors for your contribution to bringing peace to Northern Ireland.

May I ask everyone to rise and drink a toast to President and Mrs. Bush, to the future of our two countries, and the enduring friendship between Britain and the United States.

Mr. President.

(A toast is offered.)

The President then rose to acknowledge the Queen's kind and witty words.

Your Majesty, I can't top that one. (Laughter.)

Your Royal Highness, distinguished guests, thank you so much for a warm welcome. Laura and I appreciate your hospitality. I particularly want to thank Ambassador Manning and Lady Manning for inviting us to your home.

The friendship between the British and American people is one of the oldest and most enduring in history. This friendship has been built on the common ideal of freedom, and forged by our shared sacrifices in freedom's defense.

Your Majesty, I appreciate your visit to our World War II Memorial. I thank you for sharing your perspective last night on how the Atlantic Alliance that emerged from a great conflict has helped lay the foundation for freedom's triumph in Europe and beyond.

Today, British and American troops are following the example set by a previous generation. Troops from our two countries are serving side by side to bring the hope of liberty to regions that have not known it. Together we're supporting young democracies that are taking their first steps on the path to free and peaceful societies.

This morning the world witnessed yet another advance for freedom and peace -- the people of Northern Ireland took control of their future when Catholics and Protestants came together to form a new government that offers the prospect of peace and reconciliation after years of violence and division. In Belfast today, we're seeing once again how democracy and freedom can help heal a wounded world.

Your Majesty, thank you for your words tonight, and for the love and affection you have shown the American people over many years. In this spirit, I offer a toast to Your Majesty, to Your Royal Highness, and to our closest of friends, the British people.

(A toast is offered.)

The Pop Culture Institute offers you its own toast, Your Majesty:

Long may you reign!
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Queen In Space, At Mall

On the Queen's last full day in the US, she visited NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center in Maryland.

While there Her Majesty listened to three astronauts describing their duties onboard the International Space Station.

After leaving Goddard the Queen is expected to lay a wreath at the WWII memorial on the National Mall before returning the favour by hosting the President and First Lady to a banquet at the British Embassy.

The Queen and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, return to London May 8th.
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A State Dinner Fit For A Queen

130 guests joined the President, First Lady and the royal couple at the White House Monday for the first white-tie affair of the Bush Administration.

The menu featured British cuisine, and the speeches subtly disagreed, and a marvellous time was had by all.

[S O U R C E]
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Queen Arrives At White House

The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh were warmly greeted at the White House Monday by the President and First Lady.



There followed the usual speeches, including a now-famous flub made by the President, a lunch and a garden party.

The royal couple will not be staying in the White House, but rather at nearby Blair House, where guests of state stay.

The six-day visit wraps up this evening, with the Bush Administration's first-ever white-tie dinner. The Queen and Prince Philip fly back to London tomorrow.

[S O U R C E]
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No Comment: When Readers Attack

On a site like Gawker there are so many commenters that they can afford to delete a few every so often. They do this in a way which is designed to not offend the remaining commenters, but nevertheless sends the message to its users about expected modes of behaviour while on the site in a suitably hip and humourous way.

The posts where this occurs usually fall under the grim heading of Commenter Executions; in preparing this piece, a simple search at Gawker yielded 342 examples, making Gawker's Commenter Executions a more-or-less weekly event.

Well, I'm not executing anyone, but I did receive a trio of comments which I will not be moderating. Instead, they will be placed here, where they can be dissected and studied. This is just one of the risks of dealing with me; anything that happens involving me is potential blog fodder. It remains to be seen whether such a policy will ultimately draw more people to me or drive them away. Anyway, "them's the risks", as they say; also, since it's my blog, "nanny nanny poo poo" if you don't like it.

Firstly, this trio of comments were published anonymously. Now, when I started this blog I was anything but adept at managing it, and so I'd had it set up that only other Blogspot members could leave comments. After about the sixth or seventh post, I was informed that this was the case (by another frequent commenter) and I remedied the situation.

The commenter in question (let's call him Mr. X) has been informed of this change of status, but still publishes anonymously, although lately he's at least taken to putting his name in the body of the comment. That, and given the calibre of the comments themselves, is what we in the business call "too little too late".

I realise it's a bit of a hassle to leave a comment, what with the mystery word and all, and I thank all of you who willingly undergo this precautionary step in order to do so. Given the nature of this blog, and the type of subject matter being dealt with, I feel it's my responsibility to protect it and its readers from flamers and haters of all kinds.

I'm sure I will give this practise up once there are so many comments that moderating them cuts into my writing time.

* * *

On the post "Now Showing - Jimmy Carr" Mr. X wrote:

"stodgy brit wit, though i want more american patronizing"

Nothing wrong in that per se but it should be pointed out that Jimmy Carr wasn't just patronising to Americans, but to the British audience as well. Thus the joke. Had Mr. Carr only been patronising towards Americans, I doubt I'd have found it as funny. In fact, it can be argued that Mr. Carr wasn't poking fun at Americans at all, but rather at himself. Wanting "more american patronising", Mr. X comes dangerously close to hater territory. I also disagree with the word "stodgy", but as Mr. X is entitled to his opinion, I won't make any judgement about that.

On "Queen's Address To Virginia Assembly" he wrote:

"that peacock-looking violet-blue and coral red hat is garish, gaudy and god-awful...definitely the ugliest hat ever!"

No word about the speech, just straight to the hat.

Now the hat may be garish and gaudy but as it is an exemplar of the kind of hats the Queen always wears it is hardly exceptional; as for the ugliest hat ever, that would be a hardhat. The second ugliest hat ever is the do-rag Mr. X himself has worn every single day since 1988. The Queen's hats are an admittedly touchy subject with me; here is where the policy "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" comes most fully into play.

His final comment was in response to On This Day in Pop Culture (1931):

"when u do finally fuck off to nyc, don't bother going up there -- too damn crowded with tourists"

Since if I didn't want to go where there are tourists a) I wouldn't travel, b) I wouldn't travel to New York, and c) I definitely wouldn't go to the top of the Empire State Building, this comment seems like a shitty opinion wrapped up in a greasy bit of passive-aggressive advice then lobbed through my picture window. Not going somewhere just because there are tourists there kind of negates the entire reason for travel in the first place.

* * *

None of these comments is particularly hateful in itself, but rather point to a certain attitude which indicates that Mr. X just doesn't get it. I try to make the Pop Culture Institute a welcoming place, if nothing else, and expect the same of my readers. Whatever else Mr. X's comments are, "welcoming" isn't one of them. If you must be intemperate or snide, at least be funny, well-informed, or willing to enjoin in some serious badinage.

There. Now that's done I can apologize for the clunky syntax here and go back to nursing my hangover. I got a little wild celebrating my 600th post last night, and I'm feeling it today. I'm afraid there isn't enough Calgon in the world to take me away from this headache.

Thank you for your time and patience in this matter.

MSM
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There's An Israel Day Parade?

Why was I not told about this? How do I keep missing these memos? Oh, that's right. I don't live in Manhattan.

Since "move to Manhattan" is already at the top of my To-Do list, and this year's parade is already over, I guess I've done all I can do for now.



Not that I'm, like, a Zionist or anything... Per se. It's just that Jewish guys are kinda hot.

Thanks to Joe.My.God for the 411.
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Blog Fodder: The Brain Fart

Wouldn't you know, the longer I do this the easier it gets. It also gets easier to make mistakes, like preparing posts then forgetting to publish them. It must have been all that fresh air I got today. Either that or all that lack of sleep.

Anyway, as you can tell from the tag, this is my 600th post, but as promised, the next big retrospective is scheduled for the end of June, at the 1000th post. At that time I think I'd like to clarify my aims a little better with regards to the Pop Culture Institute. As the name implies, an Institute is for study, and study, at least in terms of depth, is not something I've not done too much. Yet.

Pop culture, of course, is all about patterns. Or, if you prefer, trends. Which of those trends endures becomes history. Thus the incredibly catchy tagline you see at the top of this page.

I've tried to bridge high culture and low here, and obviously I'm having fun doing it. The minute something stops being fun, that's it for me. Unless, of course, the un-fun activity pays the rent, in which case I smile through gritted teeth and try to find the fun in it where I can.

Well, all I have to say is that my teeth are never gritted when I'm working on this. It's a blast: researching the stories, putting photos with words, laughing over mistakes, and meeting all my new commenters. Honestly, I think I've discovered what it is I want to do, and I thank each and every one of you for allowing me to experiment with it on you.

MSM
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Queen Enjoys Kentucky Derby

The Queen fulfilled her lifelong dream of watching the Kentucky Derby today, accompanied by the Duke of Edinburgh. "Queen Elizabeth is certainly the most prestigious guest we've entertained in the modern-day history of the Kentucky Derby," track president Steve Sexton said. The race was won by Street Sense, who came from next-to-last place to pass Hard Spun by two and a half lengths and claim a purse worth more than $2 million US.

Her Majesty and His Royal Highness will spend the next two days near Lexington, Kentucky, at the farm of William Farish; in addition to being a former US ambassador to the Court of St. James, Mr. Farish is a horse breeder like the Queen.

On Monday the royal couple will visit the White House, where the first white-tie event of the current administration will be held in their honour.

[S O U R C E]
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ONE IS NOT AMUSED

[Elizabeth II assumes the usual expression for chatting with Darth Cheney at Jamestown. God bless you, Ma'am.]
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Are You Enjoying America, Ma'am?

[Elizabeth II, beaming during a visit to William and Mary College in Williamsburg VA.]
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Segolene Royal Kicking Ass, Taking Names

Following a victory in last Sunday's Presidential election run-off, Segolene Royal strode into the Presidential debates and whupped some serious Sarkozy ass. Now she has "dared" France to elect a woman President. Nice... Very feisty.

I'm already seeing Juliette Binoche in the movie version.

[S O U R C E]
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Queen Tours Jamestown

The Queen made her tour of historic Olde Jamestowne accompanied by Virginia governor Timothy M. Kaine and Darth Cheney.

Which means, I guess, that Her Majesty's handbag was stuffed full of digitalis, virgin's blood, and epinephrine suppositories (or whatever it is they're using to keep that criminal alive).

She was also greeted by Sandra Day O'Connor, like the queen an equine enthusiast.

Though she made no speech, the Queen made animated remarks throughout her tour, which included an armoury and the excavation of the nearby Fort, which was thought to be lost when she last visited in 1957.

The Queen's next stop is William and Mary College.

(photo: Jason Reed/Reuters via The New York Times)
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Steinbeck Trove Uncovered

Rare and valuable manuscripts by Nobel Prize-winning writer John Steinbeck have been found in a home in the Hollywood Hills. They include an unpublished story, several letters, and a draft of Sweet Thursday, the sequel to Cannery Row.

The papers are expected to fetch upwards of half a million dollars at auction.

[S O U R C E]
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Now Showing - "Margaret Thatcher" on Codco

Codco was a seminal Canadian sketch comedy show.

This sketch features the brilliant Greg Malone as Margaret Thatcher, discussing cuts to social programs and generally poor-bashing.

Why this show isn't on DVD is beyond me. (Are you listening Salter Street Productions and CBC?)
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