Oh, For Fuck's Sake. Oliver Stone's been hired to direct a movie about 9/11.

{...}NEW YORK - Nearly four years after the collapse of the World Trade Center, Oscar-winning director
Oliver Stone will direct a film based on the story of two police officers who were trapped in the rubble on Sept. 11, 2001.

Nicolas Cage, who won a best-actor Oscar for "Leaving Las Vegas," will star as Port Authority police Sgt. John McLoughlin. McLoughlin and fellow officer William J. Jimeno became trapped during rescue efforts after the collapse of the twin towers.{...}

From Ollie The Drink Trolley's press release:

{...}"It's a work of collective passion, a serious meditation on what happened and carries within a compassion that heals," Stone said in a statement Friday. "It's an exploration of heroism in our country — but it's international at the same time in its humanity."{...}

Great. It's international in its humanity. Does that mean Ollie's going to bring a bit of Asian flair to it? After all, it's not really an Oliver Stone film without bisexual Macedonian princes on horses, readying their troops for battle, or pretty Vietnamese women with those funky straw hats, is it? Is his "exploration of heroism in our country" going to show a wonderful buildup to how, I'm sure, he believes we brought 9/11 on ourselves? Because, you know, heroism always has a price attached to it. It makes for better drama that way, doncha know?

{Insert repeated slamming of head on desk here}

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Courtesy o' the Llamas

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The world keeps turning, and even though there is horrible news coming out of London, The Fraters would like you to join them for a beer this evening down at Keegan's to support Soldiers Angels.

What is Soldiers' Angels all about?

Well...

Within a few short months, The SoldiersÂ’ Angels Foundation went from a mother writing a few extra letters to an Internet Community of over thousands of angels worldwide and growing stronger with the addition of new members daily. With more and more merchants donating services, money and items for packages, the Angels reorganized as a 501 c 3 non-profit foundation.

SoldiersÂ’ Angels currently supports thousands of American Service Members stationed wherever we raise our CountryÂ’s Flag and the number is growing daily. We also work tirelessly supporting our Wounded Soldiers, with transitional backpacks, personal visits, phone calls, etc. Additionally, we send our thanks via letters and email to the military of Great Britain, Poland and Australia who serve by our soldiers side in Iraq.

Soldiers' Angels are 100 percent volunteer run and dedicated to ensuring that our military know they are loved and supported during and after their deployment into harms way.

A community of Angels volunteer daily to provide aid and comfort to our military and their families. Join the many SoldiersÂ’ Angels to ensure that no soldier goes unloved.

Timely, no?

So go down to Keegan's at eight tonight if you're in the Cities and give them all your cash.

I'd be there, but I don't think my mom is up for barhopping with the MOB. Have fun!

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I'm way behind on this one. What can I say? My parents are in town and I had to drive my dad to his polka festival.

Life does, indeed, go on.

Great roundups can be found here, here, here, and in the case of the llamas, well, just keep on scrolling for some of Churchill's greatest hits.

UPDATE: Jonathan has some thoughts that are well worth reading.

I, too, was very proud of President Bush this morning. I was struck, after hearing his remarks, by just how much the shoe is on the other foot this time around.

The morning of 9/11 Bush was flying around the country, dodging what turned out to be non-existent threats. He wasn't around for us at that point in time. We were left to the devices of a hysterical media, who then thought it would be nice to show us the footage of West Bank residents whooping and hollering. (Thanks!) Tony Blair, however, was around. And thank goodness for it. He propped us up when we needed it the most. He had our president's back. This morning the situation was reversed, with Bush giving a wonderful statement while Blair was flying to London from Scotland.

I, for one, am glad it was President Bush who was allowed to return the favor. It seems fitting under the circumstances.

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So, an auspicious start to Thursday Diva action, eh? Hmmm.

It almost seems wrong to ponder on something so freakin' trivial as jealousy on such a day,but perhaps, even if I'm not in the mood to write something new, someone needs a pick-me-up and would like to read a golden oldie...sooooo, I'm reposting this bit I wrote back when we had Divas Sez, our incredibly successful attempt at starting an advice column.

What makes a Diva jealous in a good way. What makes a Diva jealous in a bad way. Is there a difference?

Now, personally, given how I feel after I've had a visit from the little green monster, I don't think it's possible there is such a thing as "good jealousy." It's all bad, and as I will explain, even the least likely thing can set me off.

The husband, God love him, is absolutely, 100% secure in our relationship. He doesn't worry that I'm going to leave him for someone who doesn't play MMORPG's. He doesn't worry when I start chatting with males, because he knows that, for the most part, I would prefer to chat with men because they're not talking about, well, men all the time, which is something I find a wee bit tiresome at this stage of the game. So, if we're at a party, he doesn't worry. He has no need to worry. And he goes on about his business, blissful in the knowledge that no man will be able to tempt me away. This, I believe, has something to do with the fact he is the King of Logic. Logic is always the bottom line. Emotions, he would argue, while nice, are a drawback because they get in the way of logic.

I, on the other hand, am a freakin' drama queen. (I am a diva, ya dig? This makes great sense in the scheme of things.) I love my emotions. I feel {insert Tony the Tiger voice here} they're grrrrreat! I feel they're the truth about who we are as human beings and logic, while it has its uses, is pretty goddamn boring. As such, I can get very jealous, at the drop of a hat, and, most of the time, it's for absolutely no good reason other than the fact I have a very good imagination. Picture the a couple at a party, split up, talking to two separate groups of people. The woman (me) notices something might be amiss out of the corner of her eye. He just touched her on the shoulder? What does that mean? Does he think she's hot? She's a blonde, for chrissakes. He doesn't like blondes! Goddamnit! What's she got that I haven't? What makes her so appealing that the husband, who is not mr. touchy feely, just touched her on the shoulder? Aiiieee. He's cheating on me! He's leaving me! I know it. I know it. Well, that's just NOT happening, ya hear? I'd better go over there and intervene!

And all of this is because the husband noticed a spot of lint on her black sweater clad shoulder and, living up to his worst OCD tendencies, couldn't stand to see some small bit of white marring all the blackness.

Jealousy is our insecurities at play in the fields of the Lord. It's the two-year-old inside of you who screams MINE! and starts hitting even though Mommy told them they shouldn't. It's your worst fears, laid out on the table, for all to see, because you're too angry and hurt to pull back and look at things in a rational manner.

Now, I'm not denying jealousy has its uses, because, ultimately, it does tell that special someone in your life that you do, indeed, care enough to send the very best of your own particular brand of insanity, but how healthy is that? Not very, in my opinion. Relationships are hard enough without a little green monster horning in and offering up its two cents worth.

Now, go and read what the other marvelous divas have to say. Make sure you give Divaesque Lady Joan of Seven Inches of Sense a warm "howdy." For the male perspective, please go and read what the marvy men's club---Stiggy, Phin, The Wiz and the Naked Villains---has contributed.

{Ed note: Yes, I did fiddle with the time stamp on this post.}

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But amazingly enough, you can find a ball, The Cotillion Ball to be precise, at these fine blogs.

Go read and get in touch with your feminine side.

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You want to know why, if you wear glasses, you should always keep a spare pair?

Oh, sure, I know. I don't have to sell you on this one. You know you should have a spare pair. The fright of losing them runs through your mind in a quick rush. Dear God, I can't see without them! I really should get around to getting another pair. I really should. But really, with the availabilty of one hour glasses shops, it's probably the last thing on your mind, particularly when one takes into account how much a pair of spectacles costs these days. If they break, I can get another pair with minimal hassle. Besides, you say to yourself, how likely is it that I'll need a spare pair? After all, that only happens when the worst case scenario comes and visits my life.

My devoted Cake Eater Reader I am here to tell you that, conceivably, it need not be a worst case scenario that would cause you temporary blindness. Provided you're legally blind without your spectacles. Like I am. In something like seventeen states.

Never mind losing your best, most effective pair of corrective lenses in the sea.

Never mind losing your best pair in a car crash.

Never mind losing your best pair on a roller coaster that goes upside down.

Never mind losing your best pair as you run from a mummy---a freshly resurrected mummy, I should add---who's chasing you through Hamunaptra because one of your party had the bad sense to read the Book of the Dead out loud. (Dude! It's small consolation, I know, but pretty soon it won't matter. But you should probably know that your tongue's next!)

Never mind any of those wild rides. Occam's razor, my friend. Occam's razor. The simplest explanation is, most often, the correct one.

Ahem

You could, theoretically speaking, have just washed your spectacles. You could---again, theoretically speaking---be drying them. You could hear a small snap and in your hands you would find that the bridge of your glasses has separated into two pieces, leaving you with a lens and a corresponding earpiece in either hand.

What follows next could, conceivably, be interesting.

You could, conceivably, let out a small yelp of surprise.

Your spouse could, conceivably, ask, "What's wrong?" from the other room.

You could, conceivably, walk into said other room, eyes narrowed as you manuever your way around blurry-looking furniture, saying, "Look, honey, my glasses broke!"

Your spouse could, conceivably, take the two pieces into his hands and he could say, "Oh, I can fix that."

You could, conceivably, nod your head and stumble back into the other room where your spare pair of spectacles awaits their moment in the spotlight. They've been understudying for quite some time, after all. It's time for them to come into the limelight.

Now that you, conceivably, have your spares on your nose after rummaging around your desk for the case, you could, conceivably, go about your business.

Ten minutes later, conceivably, you could find your husband sitting at the dining room table with a lit votive candle, a small tool you're too distracted to notice, and your broken spectacles, looking very much like he's about to perform some voodoo ceremony sans the bloody chicken's head.

You could, conceivably, hold your breath and then say, in a voice loaded with skepticism, "Honey, I thought you were going to glue them back together."

Your spouse could, conceivably, respond, "I thought I'd try this instead."

You could, conceivably, walk away, not really wanting to know.

You could, conceivably, walk back a few minutes later, only to note that the candle has been blown out. It's mysteriously vanished, all except for the lingering smell of smoke from when it was extinguished. Your husband, conceivably, could be pulling himself up from the table, a sheepish smile on his face, and he could, conceivably, say, "Well, that didn't go so well."

You could then, conceivably, turn your head to look at your still-snapped spectacles as they sit on the green placemat your husband's been using as a workstation. When you, conceivably, pick up your spectacles to take a good look at them, you might note that the plastic had been completely torched and melted into something that would now be completely unrepairable by even the least competent glasses technician available.

You could then, conceivably, shrug good-naturedly and say, "It's a good thing I've got the spares, isn't it?"

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Moo knew has been having some issues this morning. Sorry about that, but it's working rather well with my master plan for the day. Which is to get the Cake Eater Pad cleaned up because---ahem---my parents are coming to town tomorrow!

This may not seem like a big deal to you guys, but it is to me. Because we've lived in the Twin Cities for nine years and other than a couple of visits over at el aeroporto when they've had layovers, they've never been to visit us. Which I know sounds rather lacksidaisical on their part until you take a couple of things into account:

• First, we haven't reproduced. Hence there are no grandkiddy functions that it's necessary for them to attend, hence providing an excuse to visit.
• Second, I don't want them driving up here in the middle of winter, and that means the months between November and April are automatically unavailable for visitation. Besides, there's nothing to do here when it's cold. They also generally go to Florida for the month of October and over to Texas to visit my sibilings who live there for part of November, too. Mom's busiest season ALSO is from April to right until they leave for Florida, too. (You did know that September and October are the new June for weddings, right? You didn't? Well, they are.) That pretty much takes care of a whole calendar year right there. And if there was one weekend that was available, well, one my stupid siblings, OF COURSE, had to plan a trip into Omaha and that generally put a kaibosh on the whole deal right there.
• Third, I don't belive my father is really all that interested in coming to the People's Republic of Minnesota. I believe he thinks he's going to be forced to pay our extorbitant tax rate even if he only comes for the weekend.
• Fourth, it's generally easier for us to visit them than the other way round. The Cake Eater Pad not being a huge place.

So, they do have good excuses. But Mom isn't busy with being the bridesmaid couturier with the mostest any more (she's a word of mouth kind of gal and "her circle," as she puts it, is pretty much done with marrying off their kids, hence her business has slacked off.) and she finally blew my other sibilings off, hence they're coming to visit!

Oh, and there's a polka festival this weekend, too.

One of my dad's friends, Big Joe, the friendly and lovable scourge of Sunday mornings when I was growing up, is putting this show on out at the Medina Entertainment Center. Joe is a good guy and he's managed to parlay his love of polka into a show on RFD and he's putting this thing together so he'll have some footage to air on his show. He's also asked my Dad to come and help out with the running of the thing. When I was eighteen, Big Joe hosted a huge festival out at Ak-Sar-Ben (spell it backwards) and Dad helped him run it. Of course, I went out to see what was going on with this thing one night with my mom. Imagine my surprise one day, years later, when we were down in Clear Lake, Iowa for a wedding reception for some friends, I turn on the tee vee where we're staying, the room has Dish Network, and I stumble across the RFD channel to see my eighteen-year-old self dancing with my dad across the Ak-Sar-Ben ballroom. AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! But I digress. Anyway, Joe trusts Dad, hence he's asked him to come out and help. If you like Polka Music, and you happen to be in the Twin Cities from Thursday to Sunday and would like to partake in some HAPPY MUSIC FOR HAPPY PEOPLE! it's $15 at the door. Ten bands a day for four days! What more could you ask for?

Beer, perhaps, but I do believe they serve it out there. Because a polka festival is just not a polka festival without copious amounts of beer.

(Ok, Dad. There's your plug.)

I don't know which day we'll be out at the festival, but if I happen to know before we actually walk out the door, I'll let you know so, if you happen to be really, really bored, you can come out and meet me.

Anyway, all of this is to explain that posting might be sporadic over the next couple of days.

Now, I'm off to clean the house.

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Wee One ponders the joys of being an omnivore.

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Ok, so here's one good thing about Live 8: Pink Floyd was incredible.

And I mean INCREDIBLE!

Watch for them to replay it. Please. You won't be disappointed. David Gilmour is the most underrated guitarist of his generation. He is technically perfect. The sound was incredible. Oh, to have been there! You lucky Londoners! I'm so jealous!

But, and I must insert a complaint here, the m*th*rf*cker at MTV that cut the feed just past the half-way mark of "Comfortably Numb" deserves to be SHOT! Thank God we had it streaming on the internet as well was watching it on tee vee, but if we hadn't...we would have missed the last three glorious minutes!

Pink Floyd---THE Pink Floyd with Roger Waters in tow---gets back together, is performing live for the first time in twenty years and YOU CUT THEM OFF BEFORE THEY'RE DONE? Who the FUCK do you people think you are? One of the GREATEST rock bands of all time gets back together and YOU CUT AWAY BEFORE THEY'VE LEFT THE STAGE? Good grief. You whippersnappers have ABSOLUTELY NO RESPECT for those who came before you. Shame on you!

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1 That MTV guy is toast. He's having a shit storm fall down on him and probably won't survive. There's a reason Dark Side of the Moon is STILL on the Billboard Top 100 after all these years.

Posted by: Mark at WitNit at July 02, 2005 07:22 PM (OF1DQ)

2 Amen!

Posted by: Kathy at July 02, 2005 09:51 PM (59hUk)

3 As "Lawrence" from "Office Space" would say: "No, Peterman, I do believe that you'd get your ass kicked for doing something like that." I've been wanting to use that quote for awhile now.

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at July 03, 2005 09:34 PM (M7kiy)

4 They were back, and they were THAT GOOD, and they got cut off. Unbelievable.

Posted by: Fausta at July 04, 2005 12:54 PM (G3tVf)

5 Man, I love Gilmour's vocals and guitar work. I really couldn't care less about Waters coming back except if they release another album...'cause the man can write some good lyrics.

Posted by: zonker at July 05, 2005 08:02 AM (/y7q3)

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So, I'm sitting here in the Cake Eater Office, watching the live feed of Live 8 over the internet.

The husband and I were talking about how freakin' cool this all was. They have managed to throw together huge concerts worldwide to get their message out there. I read that between the internet, tv, mobile phones, etc. something like eighty percent of the world's population will have access to see the concerts. So, even if you don't agree with their message, you still have to admit this is all pretty damn cool, and that they threw this all together in six weeks is extraordinary. It's amazing.

It almost makes you want to believe that it's actually going to make a difference.

One of the things I didn't think they'd be able to pull of was to keep this very large political movement apolitical. But they were going to give it their best shot. Geldof kept saying this isn't about the war, we don't want people Bush Bashing because we want to engage him (and other world leaders) and if everyone keeps injecting their anti-war fervor into it, well, we'll alienate him. He won't listen and he'll have good reason not to listen. And I almost bought it.

Until goddamn Green Day got up on the stage in Berlin---that bastion of Anti-American fervor---and plays their song "American Idiot."

Here are the lyrics:

Thanks for that, kids! Woohoo! You don't think you could have put that one song on hold for the day? I mean if this is all really about justice and ending poverty in Africa, instead of record sales, one would think that you could put it on hold. Just for a day. But you didn't. I'm watching REM right now and while Michael Stipe has some stupid blue mask painted on his face, even he's managing to keep the petty everday politics out of it. I've watched ten other bands perform and they've all managed to keep politics out of it. They've managed to stay on the message Geldof listed out for them. Why couldn't you? Because you're an idiot American in Berlin who's just dying to have their voice heard by people who will UNDERSTAND? You've just clarified it for me. I will not be aligning my voice with these idiots. Because even if they claimed this was bigger than all of us, well, it's obvious that these people hate me, and everyone who doesn't think like they do, so why would I want to? And that they would play that song, on all days, for a German audience? Billy Joe or whatever the fuck his name is just ruined it for everyone. They were shooting for something bigger than petty day-to-day politics, but they had to bring divisiveness into it.

Well done, asshat.

UPDATE: So, I turned on the VH1-MTV feed and they were interviewing Kanye West. Who he is, I have no idea. But he claimed this was a big deal. All of these things were preventable, he said. So far so good, right? Weeeeel, he said poverty was preventable like HIV/AIDS was preventable: that if we'd created all of it, we could end it. He said, and I'm paraphrasing here, that HIV/AIDS was "man made" and had been introduced into Africa. He didn't say why or who had introduced it into Africa, or why anyone would do such a thing, but he was sure that this was the truth, and the inference we were to draw was that it was to "kill off black people." It's the same thing with crack cocaine, he claimed, which had been introduced into the black community to kill people off. He said he knew this "for a fact" because "his parents were activists" and they'd told him what the real truth was.

What a fargin' idiot. He probably wants to Free Mumia, too.

If Geldof had been smart and really wanted this thing to go in the direction he had declared, he should have banned press access to any of the artists performing. To keep them from spouting ridiculous views.

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{Insert copious amounts of snickering here}

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Well, see there's a problem with their recommendation. The nearest bar to me is a wine bar. There's a fancy-schmancy Tex-Mex place three doors down from that, but it's not like I'm going to be able to purchase some Tortilla Tequila there, ya dig? Padrone? Yes. Tortilla? No. And God only knows I need some TORTILLA TEQUILA to lighten the hell up!

It's a requirement.

*bonus points for whomever can identify the quote

{Hat Tip: Doug}

Posted by: Kathy at 02:46 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Did no one try to guess? Isn't it that John Cusak movie where he goes across country for some girl? "A Sure Thing" or something like that. I would have guessed sooner, but was w/out internet connection for few days.

Posted by: The Maximum Leader at July 05, 2005 03:46 PM (jiSuM)

2 BingBingBing! You are correct and you are the winner of ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Thanks for being a good sport. And actually it's called "The Sure Thing." A marvelous movie if people haven't already seen it, and it's one that my family can quote from liberally. (We've all seen it about a thousand times courtesy of one of my brothers)

Posted by: Kathy at July 05, 2005 03:56 PM (i+tYQ)

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From Brian Williams' Blog yesterday:

{...}Many Americans woke up to a curious story this morning: several of the former Iran Hostages have decided there is a strong resemblance between Iran's new president and one of their captors more than 25 years ago. The White House and most official branches of government are ducking any substantive comment on this story, and photo analysis is going on at this and other news organizations. It is a story that will be at or near the top of our broadcast and certainly made for a robust debate in our afternoon editorial meeting, when several of us raised the point (I'll leave it to others to decide germaneness) that several U.S. presidents were at minimum revolutionaries, and probably were considered terrorists of their time by the Crown in England.{...}

{emphasis mine}

Bullshit.

No one in England---or anywhere else for that matter---would have called George Washington, Thomas Jefferson or John Adams "terrorists." They would, however, have called them---ahem---traitors, because that's what they were to the average Joe or crown sporting monarch in England. They told King George III to go and do something obscene with said crown because they were fed up and they weren't going to take it anymore. That, generally, will get you labeled as a traitor because Kings, as a rule, don't like that sort of behavior. It makes them testy.

Yet, there's a bit of difference between a traitor and a terrorist. And if you can't see that, well, you're a dolt, Williams. But we already knew that because you're the "managing editor" of the NBC Nightly News, which, let's face it, is not exactly the most taxing form of employment and you only need the IQ of your average zoo-residing chimpanzee to get the freakin' job.

{Hat tip: Martini Boy's Bartender. See also: Doug}

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