Since today's Thanksgiving, I've got zero original content other than to say that Macy's was a disappointment. I was almost reduced to a red-faced rage when Harvey Fierstein appeared in Herald Square.

Little children watch (or used to watch, in my case) the NBC telecast of the parade for the cute stuff like Big Bird balloons and so forth. We tolerated these annoying intrusions of mediocre pop stars and people that no one outside of Broadway knew. Who at ten years old cares about the cast of Cats or some far lesser show? (Not you; they didn't have warships or automatic weapons. --Ed.) So that's the background I brought to Macy's. I've also seen it live, back in the mid-1990s. Watch it on TV, unless you're at Herald Square or are willing, like me, to stand in freezing temperatures for hours to watch the balloons.

Instead of a pleasant homage to Thanksgiving and years gone by, we get Harvey frickin' Fierstein in drag. What the---?!? No! Lots of kids probably started crying and asking their parents why that woman was so fat, so ugly, and had such a voice. The answer? Son, I'm afraid that sometimes, men don't want to be men. They want to be women. That's one of 'em. Or something. Had the Country Pundit any children (And a wife, or even reasonable prospects in those areas. --Ed.), he would have explained that NBC's having technical difficulties and that they should really be refilling their cereal bowls or something---go help your mother or something.

I didn't pay close attention to the telecast, and didn't watch with stopwatch and statistical breakdown of the percentages of broadcast time allotted, so my next point can easily be shot down by anyone with the information. Nevertheless, Macy's seemed to go by a lot faster this year. Maybe they focused on that dreadful team of Couric & Lauer more, or something; the turkey came through earlier than I remember, and Santa Claus arrived pretty quickly. I do, however, remember Lauer making some snide crack about the Texas bunch that sang in the double-breasted button shirts, one that I figured couldn't have been extended (safely) to other parts of our wonderful rainbow patchwork quilt society without the Reverend Jesse Jackson of the First Self-Righteous Church getting angry.

Oh well. At least the midday meal was good. We had my grandmother over from her place, and that's always a major accomplishment due to her being 91 and fragile. Good food and all that, plus the obligatory reading (by me, !@#$) of a Thanksgiving poem about "Over The River and Through the Woods".

And of course, the Commander-in-Thief needlessly spent taxpayer dollars in lying to the American people about Iraq again.

I was impressed by the President's Baghdad detour; it was, at the least, sorta gutsy¹, and seems to have been well calculated. That is, at least until Henry Waxman and Company get into the books and declare that Bush squandered precious taxpayer resources and that the American people deserve reimbursement from the President for his meal.

New chant for the anti-war protestors: BUSH LIED, THE TURKEY DIED!

¹ Admittedly, I'd hate to have seen the sad sack who would have drawn straws to take a shot at Air Force One. Shooting at a defenseless DHL cargo plane is one thing. Shooting at the Leader of the Free World's airplane is another.

Addendum: Two purchases, one of X-Men 2: X-Men United and the Don Davis soundtrack to The Matrix: Revolutions. Commentary later.

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This time, I'm sending you to his site. Mr Free Market has been good enough to reward us with three images of England's fairer sex cheering on its rugby team, and we'll let him reap the benefits of his munificence.

The post in question also has a wickedly funny analysis of Chirac-ian spin applied to various events throughout the history of Anglo-French relations. Go there now and see more rugby girls. Keep it up, Mr Free Market!

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England has won the rugby World Cup, defeating Australia. That sour contrarian Andrew Stuttaford dug up a story wherein Jacques Chirac found a way to celebrate the victory:

This deserved victory is also a victory for Europe. Thanks to the extraordinary talent of the English players, the World Cup is coming to the northern hemisphere for the first time. All lovers of rugby in France and in Europe share the joy of the English fans.

Uh huh. Quit trying to elbow in---from what I understand, the men of England sent Team Metrosexual packing. Anyways, the final game seems to have been a close one, and I'm happy that England won, although I wish it hadn't been at the expense of Australia.

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Yesterday, I went out and got two DVDs, thus furthering the economic recovery. Chew on that, Waffle-Powered Howard. In the order of purchase, they were:

Galaxy Quest
The Others

The GQ DVD is defective; bloody thing skips oddly when it makes the layer transition (I think) and therefore I can't watch part of it. Nevertheless, once you get through the painful first few minutes (mostly at the convention) it's a great movie. Whatever Sigourney Weaver's politics (I don't know; I don't care) she's good in this film,

The Others is arguably one of the most creepy films I've watched in a while. I don't generally spook (as opposed to jump when the music stings or a xenomorph in its second stage (i.e. facehugger) pops out after Ripley and Newt, which still happens even though I know darn near every second of Aliens) but The Others kept me moving about a bit uneasily. I don't have words for it at this point, but my "self" (as opposed to a purely physical sense) was roiling about after seeing the end of this film. It ain't often that I reach over and flip the light on immediately at the end, so I'm quite impressed by this effort. There's just something about it that draws you in; I'm not quite sure what creates this effect. It may be the sparse nature of the film, with only about five characters in it. There isn't a whole lot going on and it's a restrained picture that leaves one's brain to run amuck. Early episodes of Space: 1999 wowed me with their sparse look, so that may be the attractive thread. Or perhaps something else; I'm not entirely certain that I'm not just fond of directorial restraint and displays of artistic skill.

Words can not describe just how beautiful Nicole Kidman is in this picture. I am convinced that somehow, she's evidence that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Are we in 2003 America supposed to believe that Jennifer Lopez in a green sheet is somehow beautiful, and that a properly-arranged woman from the 1940s (done up like Mrs. Grace Stewart) isn't? If you believe this, you can stand in line with lots of other slavering pigs to root about with J.Ho; I'll gladly take a retro-Kidman.

Having raved about her beauty, I'll simply note that I think she probably deserved at least an Oscar nomination; good grief, the woman acts well in this. I'd never seen a movie with her in it before (curious, but just one of those quirks of moviegoing) so I was a tad cautious about getting the film, but hey, it worked out. Miss Kidman carried the film quite well, and I was taken with the character. Where's my Grace Stewart, dagnabbit? A solid Christian girl who can give orders, use a shotgun, has a backbone of steel, and who ain't afraid of the dead, all while looking absolutely lovely. What's that? I'm not guaranteed that? Pout.

It was interesting seeing Christopher Eccleston (no relation to that once-comely FNC reporteress, Jennifer "Miss Shock & Awe" Eccelston) playing something other than the ruthlessly intense Duke of Norfolk in Elizabeth. The little brother in the movie did well, but darned if he didn't look like a pudgy Dennis Kucininch. Any minute you'd almost expect him to break out say something about a Ministry of Peace to settle the situation.

Two solid purchases marred only by a manufacturing defect. No complaints about either film. I'm now scrounging around to get the funds for the soundtrack to The Others, 'cause that seemed to have been an important component to the film.

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Mr Free Market over at Free Market Fairy Tales has done it again, this time delivering us another image of the cross of Saint George emblazoned on an entirely different trio. I'd like to say something witty and original, but I'm brought short due to time considerations. So, I'll steal from the comments section at FMFT:

I am not a rugby fan. However, I am becoming a fan of rugby events.

In order to save this guy on bandwidth, the picture is reproduced here:

From the looks of it, the Anglosphere seems set to keep this rugby cup, because the final game is between England and Australia. The Country Pundit, being easily swayed by such as above, is rooting for England unless the Australians counter with Nicole Kidman or Cate Blanchett.

Also worth reading there is his post on World War I; I don't know much about that war, but I certainly enjoyed reading what he had to say. I think the guy in the painting is supposed to be Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig. A quick peek at the image title confirms this; he was supreme commander of British forces (and maybe more) for a time in the war. Sir Douglas managed to ring up some horrific casualty counts among his own troops, and as such hasn't fared so well in post-war opinion.

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The Atlantic Monthly has a new interview with P.J. O'Rourke posted at their site.

Among other things, P.J. talks about the late Michael Kelly, reminisces about Operation DESERT STORM, and describes the (negative) effects of the Saddam government upon the people of Iraq. The perenially indignant need not read the piece, but it's safe for everyone else.

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1 The "Perennially Indignant?" haha Shall we add the "P.I." to the "P.C?" Of course, "P.J." is neither of those. Good read, thanks.

Posted by: The Politburo Diktat at November 17, 2003 11:49 AM (jNXzj)

2 As much as I'd like to, I can't take credit for "perenially indignant". P.J. himself seems to have coined that in his seminal treatise, Parliament of Whores. The P.I. are probably a subset of the P.C., or at least closely related in some twisted way. Glad you liked the article; any time I can put P.J. forward on the Internet, I've got to. Thanks for the link!

Posted by: The Country Pundit at November 17, 2003 01:56 PM (QUo4+)

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[Reprinted without prior permission but with a TrackBack to allow one of Jonah's military guys to yell at me if he gets mad. Given the subject matter, I just couldn't resist using it, in light of my pro-Old Dominion bias. There has been a single editorial change.]

Going to Paradise?

After his death, Osama bin Laden went to paradise. He was greeted by George
Washington, who slapped him across the face and yelled, "How dare you attack the nation I helped conceive!"

Patrick Henry punched him in the nose and shouted, "You wanted to end America's liberty, but you failed."

James Madison appeared, kicked him, and said, "This is why I allowed the
government to provide for the common defense."

Bin Laden was subjected to similar beatings from Edmund Randolph, James Monroe, Thomas Jefferson and 66 other early Americans. As he writhed in pain on the ground, an angel appeared. Bin Laden said, " This was not what I was promised."

The angel replied, "I told you there would be 72 Virginians waiting for you.
What did you think I said?"

Heh heh heh. If I had a scanned image of Calvin laughing evilly while preparing a plan to surprise Hobbes, I'd post it here to illustrate my reaction. This is laugh out loud funny stuff, and I'm grateful to the father who sent it.

Tip of the Wisconsin hat to Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© for having this wonderful post. As his site states, all copyrights to original material remain with him, and certainly no effort is made by this site to challenge his copyright in any original materials.

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Being an American, I like snappy slogans and faux-intellectual pretentiousness, especially when I get to practice it. This leads me to a maxim I wrote a while back, probably some time after 1999's The Phantom Menace.¹

I had learned that Natalie Portman was of Israeli origin (born 09 June 1981 in Jerusalem) and indeed had visited the place recently after one of those Palestinian not-so-smart bombs had detonated itself in a public place, with attendant civilian casualties. The mental machinery of wiseacrey shuddered to life, and thus uttereth the Pundit:

"Dude. Until the Palestinians can come up with something better [looking] than Natalie Portman, I'm backing the Israelis."

Toss all the arguments about the right to self-determination of peoples, the notion of popular sovereignty, participatory democracies, the theory of the nation-state, all the religious and cultural questions, et cetera. Given that some of the rhetoric in the Palestinian corner usually mentions exterminating all the good people of Israel, I couldn't in good conscience allow such a thing to happen to a gene pool that produced Natalie Portman. It couldn't happen! I therefore articulated the outsider's question of who to support very, very simple: What've you done for my viewing pleasure lately? I was fairly certain that this maxim would go unchallenged for quite a while.

Cometh The Politburo Diktat, a blog that's nastily funny in terms of satire. Basically, it apes the old Soviet style of reporting, grammar, spelling, and so forth. It also has the honor of being the first to challenge (albeit briefly) the Portman doctrine.

In a post entitled Exploiting Ajram, TPD gives us the story of one Nancy Ajram, a pop singer who's getting into trouble with Islamic authorities in Bahrain. Why's she in trouble? The usual: She's decent looking, and doesn't wear a burka. Anyways, I don't care what the Bahrainis do² in regards to this girl; their government likes us and that's what's important.

For a brief moment, this Miss Ajram made me think that the Portman Doctrine would be applied to a different effect, that I might have to await a new Israeli babe to re-examine my political sympathies. Unfortunately for the Palestinians, Miss Ajram is from Lebanon. Until they come up with an eye-catching babe, I'll have a hard time being lobbied for their cause.³

Yeah, yeah, this is a flip post. I don't know a thing about Nancy Ajram past 'she sings' so for all I know, she could be the moral equivalent of Vanessa Redgrave. It's a Saturday and I'm not particularly in the mood to write a sober piece.

1 I refuse as a matter of personal conscience to grant cinematic recognition to the dreadful pictures marketed under guise of 'prequels' to what right-thinking people will consider the best trilogy ever made. Take that, Messrs. Wachowski! (And, by extension, Peter Jackson.)

2 Or did; for all I know she went ahead with the performance. It is difficult to find news about the Middle East when one doesn't speak the languages of the Middle East.

3 Successful candidates will present a portfolio that overrides Miss Portman's record of playing a girl (albeit a really young one and therefore not entered in the 'babe' category) who watched Transformers and liked sniper rifles, along with playing the third-best royal-in-white (behind, in a messy tie, Cate Blanchett's Galadriel and Carrie Fisher's Leia Organa) and who at the same time was an excellent homage to Erin Gray's Colonel Wilma Deering.

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I went and did my part last night for the war economy by buying the following things at Best Buy:
X-Men 1.5
The Very Best of Sheryl Crow
Afterglow by Sarah McLachlan

OK, so having finished the DVD, I'm left wondering how the thing went by so fast. (Answer: It's a short movie, stupid.) Blah blah prejudice and fear, blah blah all the subtexts about Ian McKellen making this a movie about hating homosexuals or the like. The other side of the coin (i.e. the public policy question about how one keeps the good people of the United States (be they mutant or be they homo sapiens) safe while constraining the bad people and all under the Constitution is never really addressed. Admittedly, this isn't the action point of the movie, but I still would have appreciated something other than the fumbling attempt at tying Senator Joseph McCarthy to Senator Robert Kelly. (Never mind that history as culled from the archives of various Soviet agencies seems to have born McCarthy out in large part.) On the other hand, kudos to the director for not labeling Bruce Davison's character outright as a Republican, a swipe that most Hollywood types probably wouldn't have avoided.

Anyways. Captain Picard faces off against Richard of Gloucester and the results are worth watching. Patrick Stewart's one of these guys you pretty much can count on for a solid performance no matter the material, so he pretty much owned the role of Professor Charles Xavier. I just wish he'd said 'Engage!' at least once. Magneto seems like a man with a competing ideal, not merely the 'BWAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA! DEATH TO ALL! MUAHAHAHAHA!' type of villain that I usually don't go for. McKellen's portrayal is effortless and thoroughly ruthless; Magneto seems completely at home with a fearsome level of control over electromagnetic forces. It's impressive to see McKellen own the screen in Richard III, The Lord of the Rings, and then here.

On to my favorite X-Man (er, woman): Famke Janssen's Jean Grey. I dunno why I'm particularly interested in that character, but she caught my eye back on the old Fox cartoon in the mid-1990s, right about the time of the Dark Phoenix thing, or somewhere shortly before. Anyways. I enjoyed watching her on-screen and was as usual pleased by Miss Janssen's performance. This makes the third or fourth flick I've seen her in (starting with, what else, Goldeneye) and I've yet to be disappointed. I hear the Phoenix angle starts to come out in the second movie, so I'll be picking that up on DVD soon. I'd almost want to get into the whole Phoenix comic saga, but I have this vague notion that I'd be spending a lot of money, and I'm not up for that.

Two short notes: The much bemoaned "what happens to a toad when it's struck by lightning?" quote makes sense in a comics context. Think about how you'd have it in a mag, and the line becomes more credible. Box 1: Storm comes up the elevator shaft and Toad looks back. (Uh oh...) She asks, "Do you know what happens to a toad when it's struck by lightning?" as we see her come up the elevator shaft, electricity brewing around her. Box 2: THE SAME THING THAT HAPPENS TO EVERYTHING ELSE! as a text box as a massive bolt of lightning drills the Toad through a wall or something out into space, or has him writhing around like Luke Skywalker on the second Death Star as Emperor Palpatine tries to fry him. Alternatively, use some sort of "voice over" from the narrator of the comic to say the punchline, because I'm not sure that a character can deliver it right. In any event, I'm not sure it belonged in the movie.

UPDATE: I've gone back and watched this sequence a couple of times (best part being Wolverine's single-finger salute to Cyclops as they enter the museum) and I think the line works. In a way, Halle Berry's laid-back delivery of that punchline's the thing that makes it. I'd rather see 'laid-back' than 'all-out' in the delivery, and I suppose that's the reason I'm favorable to it. We now return you to your original blog material.

Now I'll have to lay out more money for the second X-flick when it's out on DVD and then catch the next one in theaters, especially since it's reportedly supposed to center more around Famke Janssen. Woo hoo.

Moving right along, it's been a while since I've willingly listened to Sheryl Crow. I got somewhat irate with her over the buildup to war with Iraq, and had in effect banned her from personal listening. I wasn't sure if it would be permanent or not, but I was definitely going to do something. Er, right. I'm sure she cares. It just seemed to be awfully convenient that she was all gung-ho for Kosovo and kept her mouth shut during Operation DESERT FOX, but the minute Bill Clinton wasn't calling the tune for war, she decided she didn't like the military. Nice. I had already dismissed C'mon, C'mon as a banal attempt to somehow catch the current market in music (namely the bad parts thereof) in a way that I didn't like, and thus shelved the thing after a single listen. Yep, I thought it was that bad.

So anyways, I approached the decision to buy The Very Best of Sheryl Crow with some trepidation. I had to basically be convinced by a buddy of mine who's big into Bruce Springsteen and Johnny Cash, so this was a somewhat surreal experience. The disc has seventeen tracks, so it's not short, and the version I paid extra for had a DVD with 13 of her videos. It's not bad for $22.99 plus Virginia tax. (Woo hoo, 4.5%, suck it Tennessee!) I'm still listening to it, and I'll get back to the readership with a review later. Meanwhile, there's a de rigeur essay in the liner notes, along with a bunch of photos of Miss Crow over the years. The American Spectator once named her "the thinking man's sex symbol", and hey, who am I to argue with the guys at TAS? Warping Laura Ingraham's formulation, shaddup and look good or sing, Sheryl. We're not particularly interested in your latter-day Streisandian political "thought". Suffice it to say, however, that she still passes the Butt-head test. Huh huh huh...uh...huh huh huh...

I haven't listened to any of Afterglow yet, but if/when I do, I'll get around to posting some sort of a half-wit review. Then I've got to get my hands on Dido Armstrong's latest, which ought to be good. Yikes, it's like my college days all over again---now if only law school were as easy as my undergraduate years.

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Den Beste complained about having to watch what he read for a while due to the likelihood of spoilers from The Matrix: Revolutions being broad blog topics. For what it's worth, Mr. Den Beste, this topic meets your expectation.

The following article is chock-full of spoilers and unvarnished opinion about The Matrix: Revolutions. Do not click "Continue Reading" if you don't want to have the movie spoiled. To steal a theme from Reloaded, the choice is yours. more...

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I admit it: I find the Matrix movie trilogy interesting. I've not managed to plunge into the mind-bending exercises of convoluted interpretation that many apparently have regarding the movies and their content, but I do enjoy watching the work of the Wachowski brothers, even if they do have it in for Republicans.*

Nevertheless, I've got four things to run past the readership whose interests run towards Wachowskian cinema:

1. Inside the matrix proper, Mr. Anderson works for a company named 'Metacortex', a software house that ostensibly writes software for business applications. A site has sprung up on our Internet which uses the 'Metacortex' name as its name in business and says that it makes, among other things, virtual reality software. Cute.

It's also coded entirely in black and green. Even the pictures have a green filter over them. If you go to the employee directory (see the bottom of the little Flash thing), select 'Redland' as your city, and enter AndersonThomas as the query, you get the response:

***TRANSFERRED***

No forwarding information available.

Someone's having a splendid time mimicking the world in which the Matrix series takes place, and I appreciate the effort. If you're interested in perusing the site itself, point your browser to http://www.metacortechs.com/ and go from there. I've investigated this a little, and it appears that the site is part of some vast role-playing game effort, centered around unfiction.com, an "alternate reality gaming" site. It doesn't appear to have anything to do with the Revolutions promotional effort. This "alternate reality gaming" thing seems to be just another evolution of the whole live-action role play thing that the White Wolf people popularized in the last decade or so. Ho hum. Back to one's boring daily life as a coppertop, I suppose.

2. This is old news, but it's just too good to pass up. The people of somethingawful.com have a section on their website devoted to altered screenshots around a Matrix theme. Some of the shots are crummy, but some of them can't be seen somewhere that would not allow you to respond, whether it be a snicker or an out-loud laugh. Er, like class. Anyways, check out the site by clicking here and have some fun. You'll have to be pretty familiar with various elements of pop culture, or some of them won't make any sense. My personal favorite's got to be the poster for Matrix Dogs which doesn't appear here, but might if I can figure out a way around any potential restrictions on use by the SA people.

3. 05 November 2003 is the release date for The Matrix: Revolutions. Go see it, and knock those cursed Disney computer-animated monstrosities off their respective shelves for box office receipts!

4. Despite having knocked Messrs. Wachowski in a footnote to the introduction, (Here's a question that'll really bake your noodle: Did I bash them before this fourth point, or after it?) I'll give credit where credit's due and salute their writing and cinematography meshed with Hugo Weaving's portrayal of Smith. The movie's interesting and all if you're into philosophical tangents that are essentially unprovable at this point (unless Laurence Fishburne starts handing out pills...) but all movies need an engaging antagonist. Enter Agent Smith. I won't say anything else in this overly long posting, but if asked my favorite character, the answer is constant: "Smith will suffice."

Enjoy.

* In The Matrix, the protagonists are betrayed by a man referred to as "Mr. Reagan" who doesn't want to "remember nothing" and wants to be "an actor". If we are to credit Messrs. Wachowski with the kind of deliberate symbolism that so many do, the linkage of these three facts can not be considered coincidental. Indeed, they play off a popular theme among cultural liberals, namely that President Reagan was an actor who remembered nothing at the time of the Iran-contra hearings. It is somewhat irritating to see them repeat this theme and then connect President Reagan to a traitorous individual.

In The Matrix: Reloaded, we see Thomas A. "Neo" Anderson conversing with a malevolent machine intelligence dubbed "The Architect". This entity is responsible for creating the matrix in which all humanity lies trapped to serve as a power source. The conversation between Mr. Anderson and the Architect takes place in front of a bank of monitors, upon which various images flash at differing times. At least three distinct individuals are broadcast upon those monitors in relatively short sequence: President George H.W. Bush, President George W. Bush, and Führer und Reichschancellor Adolf Hitler.

Gee, thanks Andy and Larry. They have chosen, for whatever reason, to put forward the two Bush presidents and the third- or fourth-most successful mass murderer in human history, presumably to hammer guilt by association. This isn't a new line; various stories about connections between the Bush family and the German National Socialists have floated about for years, but with questionable veracity. The 'George W. Bush as Hitler' thing is, of course, recent. It's juvenile and cheapens the sense of revulsion that any human being should feel at the actions of Nazi Germany. Shame on the Wachowskis for buying into left-wing nuttery.

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