February 29, 2008
See, he puts it in his back pocket at the end, but I was totally thinking "It's a cute little clutch purse!" I mean, in the dark, who's going to know the difference?
Just try and mug a chick who's carrying one of those. I dare you.
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1. I just looked at my calendar for next week, and it appears Daylight Savings Time starts next Sunday, March 9th. WHAT THE HELL? That seems a wee bit early, eh? If things continue apace, we're still going to have snow on the ground. How, precisely, is that going to help the farmers in this neck of the woods, eh?
I seem to remember this early DST thing happening last year, too, but as I was in the throes of recovering from serious surgery, it didn't make too much of a dent, apparently. I'm not really getting this whole deal. It may help the folks down south, but up here in the hinterlands, where the sun just started setting a few moments before six p.m.? Not going to help all that much, I'm afraid. Particularly since the ground is still frozen solid.
While I fully realize I'm behind the times here, the simple fact that Jessica Alba and any number of other celebrities have lined up behind Barack Obama because, and excuse me while I paraphrase here, he'll be OUR president, and not the president of the top 10% of the country, doesn't exactly make me want to vote for the guy, ya dig? (Not like I was going to anyway, but I'm on a roll, or will be shortly, so I'm not going to let facts get in the damn way.)
Who do these people think they are? THEY ARE THE TOP TEN PERCENT OF THE COUNTRY! They make ludicrous amounts of money for what? Pretending to be someone else. Oh, that's a NOBLE profession right there, let me tell ya, and one that, apparently, qualifies them to tell us who to freakin' vote for. BITE ME! Take your fake tits, ass implants, botox, and, most importantly, your misguided noblesse oblige and shove it up your ass.
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February 27, 2008
I think my favorite bit is that they lifted the music from the truck hijacking-on-the-road-to-Cairo from Raiders. Despite the fact that I'm positively sure John Williams plagiarized it from someone else, even if I don't know who, it's still great music, loaded with suspense and intrigue---something which, I think is lacking in the teaser trailer. In the teaser trailer, you have the triumphant music that we all associate with Dr. Jones, that signals, yes, he will, of course, come out the winner! Because he's Indy! Of course he's going to triumph. He just has to, otherwise the world will shift on its axis.
See, the thing that bothers me with most trailers nowadays is that, after viewing them, you don't really have to go and see the movie. They outline the entire plot, and reassure the audience that there's a happy ending. It's as if Hollywood as a whole has decided that most movies are formulaic---which they are, but you can blame that one on the ancient Greeks---so they're going to go out of their way to admit that, and try and point out the interesting and significant portions of a film that, they believe, make it stand out from the other formulaic entries in the marketplace. That's the wrong way to go, if you ask me. Yes, most movies may be formulaic, but you have to pay heed to the formula. The formula's there for a reason---because it works. It's the foundation on which the house is built, and you screw with it at your peril. Everyone knows that a neglected foundation will cause a house to fall to the ground---and it's the same with the films. You can have all the nifty accoutrement you'd like in a house---or a film--- but if you neglect the foundation, the whole shebang is going to come crashing down. Ultimately, this is the mistake I believe they've made with the newest Indy. I mean, after all, this is precisely what Georgie Porgie Puddin' and Pie did with the Star Wars prequels---why would we think that he'd do otherwise with the latest installment of Dr. Jones and his adventures. Well, the answer to that is Steven Spielberg, but one can only hope that he fought the good fight this time around and didn't let Lucas win.
Erm. I digress, but it is interesting, no, how this trailer whets your appetite for the actual story, while the original makes you simply long to be reacquainted with Indy?
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February 26, 2008
A few weeks back, I received an email from Janis, from the hospital, where she was incarcerated with a mild case of pre-eclampsyia. Since the baby was only at twenty-eight weeks or thereabouts at the time, the doctors were concerned enough to start injecting steroids, to develop the baby's lungs should he/she/it be born prematurely, and for Janis to have been put on bed rest until the birth. She's ok'ed for me to share where she's at, and since I received another email from her the other day, I'll use her words instead of mine:
So here is that latest on me and Baby H---I had a doctorÂ’s appointment Tuesday and the BP was up (140/9when I went in and after a hour of doing the non-stress test on the baby (which is listening to the baby's heartbeat by hooking up monitors around my belly and recording the heart rate, when the baby kicks and if I have contractions - the heart rate is great 158, the baby kicks and moves a bunch and I have not had any contractions which is really good) my BP had dropped to 138/80. The swelling in my feet and hands are back, but not to the extreme they were two weeks ago. No protein in my urine for the 2nd time too which is good. I know when I have done too much -- my head starts to feel fuzzy and I need to go put my feet up and either read, sleep, do counted cross-stitch, finish the baby blankets I am making for friends, check the internet or see what is crappy TV has on. {...} I donÂ’t have to go back to the doctor till next Wednesday.
We are at 31 weeks, and doctor’s first goal is 34 weeks. The doctor tells me that the pre-eclampsia can get worse for no reason so we will have to be ready for anything. Or the symptoms will stay in check as they are now and we will go as far as the Doctor deems safe – probably around 37 weeks. So it’s a week to week thing right now. My goal this week is to at least have a bag packed for me that we can grab and go if needed.
So, since Janis has to go back to the doctor tomorrow, join me in wishing her and Russ (who seems to be preoccupied by thoughts of bacon right about now) the best of luck and sending the three of them happy thoughts/prayers/good karma that everything continues to go well (or at least be uneventful from here on in) and that they make it to thirty-seven weeks.
The only thing that I would recommend for Russ to do is to take all the sharp implements and keep them out of Janis' reach, so that when the Ginsu commercials start getting to be too much, she doesn't pick up one of her own knives to prove that, yes, her knives CAN TOO CUT THROUGH A TIN CAN, whilst shouting, "NO ONE NEEDS A FRIGGIN' GINSU FOR THAT!"
Because my friends, I think it goes without saying that Ginsu Derangement Syndrome (GDS) is a side-effect of sitting on your ass and being forced to watch too much tee vee. Janis is at high risk for this. She needs our prayers and well wishes. Send them to her in the comments. (You can send them to Russ, too, because I'm fairly certain he's going to need them as well. You try keeping a knife out of a determined pregnant woman's hands. )
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February 25, 2008
Anyway, here's the wrapup, because I, of course, had some thoughts about what people were wearing. Some of it's good, and some of it's baaaaad---per usual.
While Cate was nominated twice, she went home empty handed. I can only think the humiliation of that was enlarged because she was wearing a muumuu. Now, don't get me wrong, it's a gorgeous muumuu, but it's a muumuu nonetheless and she should have known better.
At least she looked better than Jennifer Garner.
Oy vey. That dress doesn't do a damn thing for her other than make her look like a washed out dishrag. The hair doesn't deter much from that impression, either. But let's get back to the dress: I bet it looked pretty on paper, and on the mannequin, but on her? Nope. She's one of the few women in Hollywood with boobs---and they're natural looking boobs, which is good, because it means she's either got a really good plastic surgeon (and she should keep him or her on retainer, lest they get ideas and start banging on to go and fix clef palates for Doctors Without Borders, ala Sean McNamara) or she's a lucky girl in that she'd naturally endowed. So I have no idea why on earth she'd choose to squash them down. It looks like she's used to bandaging down her boobs to get on the boys football team, because she can throw a wicked long spiral (and she's got the guns to do it) and if only they'd realize that GIRLS CAN TOO PLAY FOOTBALL, all would be fine and dandy, but that she forgot this was the Oscars and she could, ahem, let the girls out to play because no linebackers were headed her way. She threw on a few diamond-encrusted bracelets to jazz up the outfit yet it doesn't really deter from this impression, but rather seems like she was overcompensating.
Fortunately for Jennifer, she was not alone in the boob-squashing department. Keri Russell had some issues with that as well.
Oy. This dress does nothing for her. The color is blah. As she's normally so pretty, she should rip it up and wash the floor with it as revenge. It doesn't fit properly, and as the Cake Eater sister (and designer extraordinaire) noticed, it was one of the few strapless dresses in existence that kept rising instead of sliding down, like they normally do. Apparently, according to Christi, she kept having to put her hands on her hips to keep the dress down while she was on the stage.
As far as fit is concerned, well Penelope Cruz should have paid a little more attention to the way her gown fit.
Yeah, you're thinking, HOT!, and NICE ASS! , so what the hell is my problem. Ok, well here's my problem. Penelope, sweet, tiny, weighs no more than 110 lbs. has back flab hanging out. It's not much in the scheme of things, and it's kind of a happy moment to realize that Penelope has back flab like the rest of us, but still. She should have ixned it for something else. That the thing has feathers on it, well, that should go without saying. Yeesh.
Getting back to colors that wash pretty women out, well, Cameron Diaz should have gone with something other than this Dior number.
It's a pretty color, yes. But it does absolutely nothing for her. It flattens her boobs, ala Garner. (And, as a related aside, how do they stand it? God, that's gotta hurt.) It washes her out, even with her surfer tan. And the back is well....yeesh.
That, my friends, is what the cool kids would say is a "hot mess." I can see where this would have looked good on paper, but they should've picked a different fabric, because, ahem, it needs to be ironed. Badly. Besides, it gives yet another skinny actress back flab.
Yet, it's still better than the European contingent who won the awards for best supporting actress and best actress, respectively.
Tilda? Well, I think we're beyond hope here. She's a striking woman, and while I appreciate the fact that it appears she deliberately chooses clothes that play up this characteristic, well, this is just ugly. There's no getting around it. It's period-nightgown shapeless, it's blah-black and it's missing a sleeve entirely. She should have worn the bracelet on the unadorned arm, just to give it some balance.
And Marion, well...fish scales as adornment? Eh? I get the whole It's-a-mermaid-dress-hence-it-should-have-a-fishy-theme, but, well, yeesh. While she totally pulls it off and manages to look GORGEOUS nonetheless, perhaps she should stay away from the Gaultier in the future, lest she get a reputation for this sort of thing.
It appears red was the color this year.
This is how you should wear red.
Here's another fabulous example of how to pull a red dress off.
Dame Helen could give lessons.
And perhaps she should pull Katherine Heigel over and tell her, Darling, never put on a dress with cutouts.
That and never let the red be orange-based red. You need purple-based red to make it really work.
All those aside, here's the worst dress of the evening---hands down. And it really kills me to do this because it's our own little Minnesota-Blogger-Who-Could, Diablo Cody, who wore it.
Oh, honey. You are smokin'. Who talked you into wearing this leopard print muumuu? You need to kill them immediately. Show no mercy. Because, while I'm sure it was comfortable, it doesn't do a damn thing for you. It made you look fat, and you're obviously not. Also, I don't think I need to remind you, but you almost pulled a Sharon Stone as you were walking offstage. You caught the damn dress before it did anything untoward, but you shouldn't have had to worry about that in the first place. I repeat: you are smokin' hot. Don't do this to yourself again, ok? You're better than this.
And, lest it be said, that we're not equal opportunity slashers here at the Cake Eater Chronicles, here's a man...
Ah, Daniel Day Lewis. Whom I adore and can pull a fascinating character straight out of his ass and make it golden. But he really needs a new tux. While I appreciate the fact that he's a man with a tux in his closet (because every man needs one) and the fact that he keeps wearing it over and over again signals something that's not the first thing you think of when you think "Daniel Day Lewis," which is practicality. I like the fact that he keeps pulling the same one out and wearing it, over and over again, but he should be pulling a normal tux in his closet, not one with brown piping along the lapels. He wore the same damn tux to the BAFTA's last week in London, and to the SAG's a few weeks ago.
It's beyond tired, bud. Put it away and never wear it again.
So, my devoted Cake Eater readers, did that do you? I would hope so.
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,
{Ht: Gary over at the Butcher's Shop}
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I'm so ashamed. This is my fault. I'll admit it. I'm to blame. Since the various Krispy Kremes about town were nowhere near the Cake Eater pad, I visited only occasionally when we had a car, and then not at all when we didn't. Maple Grove is quite the hike from the Cake Eater Pad. It takes about a half-hour to get there---and that's without traffic. I just couldn't be bothered to get in the car and drive all the way up there to get some donuts. I lamented their lack of inner city locations, but, woe is me, did nothing to support their glazed ambitions because it was too far to go for donuts. I should have made the effort. Really, I should have.
To be fair, however, they did deliver to all the local Holiday stations, and there are a few of those nearby. I patronized their glazed deliciousness via the local gas station, but alas, they lost that contract to a local grocery store chain a few months ago. And while I like the local grocery chain's custard filled chocolate bismarcks, I still adored the glazed goodness of a Krispy Kreme. Unfortunately, I didn't adore them often enough. If I had, well, perhaps we wouldn't have come to this sad state of affairs.
Sigh.
The last Krispy Kreme donut I ate was on August 10th, 2007. The only reason I remember this is because it a very bad day for me. I was supposed to receive my final chemo treatment that day, but could not because I was short a few bajillion neutrophils, and was very upset about not being finished with that nightmare. After I sat around on the sofa, crying for about an hour, I wiped my eyes and decided there was only one thing that was going to make me feel better: a donut. Red and puffy eyes and eyebrows notwithstanding, I headed over to the local Holiday station and purchased a glazed donut for eighty-five cents. The sugary concoction made me feel better. Yes, I was comfort eating, but honestly, who cares? It's Kracky Kreme: if one of their donuts doesn't make you feel better when you're down and out, well, you haven't an appreciation for the finer things in life, and no one can help you out in that respect.
Fare thee well, oh glazed yummyness. I shall miss you terribly. I'm very sorry that I didn't serve you better.
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February 19, 2008
Make sure to check out the clip from The Tonight Show. If only to see Johnny Carson's coat.
{ht: The Cake Eater Sister, Christi}
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February 18, 2008
That's just freakin' funny. I bow to the Maestro, The Manolo, for producing this, the most marvelous of the fairy tales.
And while we're on the topic of Project Runway, I cannot tell you how badly I want Christian to fall flat on his face at Fashion Week. The troll is extremely talented, yes, and he's definitely more talented than, say, last year's winner, Jeffrey, but his clothes are not flattering to a woman's body. He makes them for himself, obviously, because he takes such joy in trying them on every episode. He's yet another gay designer who wants to make Barbie clothes for a living, but his Barbie is the one packaged as "Androgyny Avant-garde Barbie." Despite his being part of that annoying trend, he's a. too young and b. TOO FULL OF HIMSELF to deserve winning. He needs to be served a whopping portion of humble pie.
I suspect, however, with Victoria Beckham on the judges panel, he'll win though. She's got a thing for funky little trolls, so I suspect she'll throw her weight (HA!) toward him.
Perhaps there should be a reality show called "Behind the Dummy" that would follow Christian around after he won Project Runway, and would capture his downward spiral. I mean, you know it's going to happen, right? He's just way too full of himself. He's a pretty scrawny guy; if his already lopsided head gets any bigger he's going to tip right over.
As far as the rest of the crew is concerned, well, Jillian's attention to detail---cut and fit, mostly---has grown on me over the past couple of episodes. My mother (master seamstress that she is) would probably love Jillian. Mom's rule of thumb is that you should be able to turn any dress inside out and still be able to wear it. No loose threads, no messy seams, no uneven hems---no nothing. I think you could probably do this with Jillian's work---and that says something rather remarkable in a competition where the contestants generally have less than forty-eight hours work time to put together something fabulous. I'm sure all the time she spent fussing with the iron would have warmed my mother's heart, because my mother couldn't live without her Rowenta. Jillian's the dark horse. She could win it all, and I can sincerely say that I don't think I'd mind if she did.
Rami NEEDS to lay off the draping. We all KNOW he loves the draping, and he can do it very well (and, I can definitively say that, after watching my mom and sister struggle with it for hours on end, draping is NOT as easy as he makes it look, so he is rather talented in that area) but, for once, I agree with La Nina: I want to see what else he can do. If he doesn't pull something out of his ass, Chris will get the coveted runway spot by default. That said, I think his clothes are, by far, the most beautiful of all the designers and are the ones I would LOVE to wear. I think that if you put on one of his dresses, you'd just feel beautiful. That says a lot.
As far as Chris is concerned, well, I just love the guy. I want to give him a big hug and invite him over for a grade school-esque sleepover. We could have catty conversations while we drank steaming mugs of cocoa in our bathrobes. It'd be SO much fun, but I'm not really certain he should be in the competition at this late stage. He's definitely got a taste for the flamboyant, but, surprisingly, his work never really elicits anything other than 'ho-hum' for moi. I really thought his dress this past week was gorgeous, but it was derivative of what he did with Christian for the avant-garde challenge. I really just want him to go nuts, but to do it the right way, with the right taste level, and I don't know if that's going to happen.
So, what say you, my devoted Cake Eater readers? Who are you rooting for?
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February 14, 2008
Yep. Sign me up. Particularly considering it's 11 here right now. And that's an improvement over recent days.
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Man, I don't know whether to be excited or just scared as hell that Lucas is going to fuck it up.
I adore Indy. I really do. Raiders is one of my favorite movies. Is it the equivalent of high literature filmmaking? No. It's definitely not Wings of the Dove material, but the glorious part is that it doesn't have to be. It's a story worth telling, and they told it well. The simple fact that they told it well, in my humble opinion, puts it right up there with any number of Best Picture Oscar winners. Besides, it's got nasty Nazis, long lost hidden treasure, Denholm Elliot, John Rhys-Davies, and snakes, which are a trial to our mercenary treasure hunter, conflicted hero, Indiana Jones, whose weapon of choice is a bull whip. What more could you ask for? But most important, it's got Marion Ravenwood, Indy's spunky lost love. Karen Allen doesn't get a lot of credit for making that movie work, but it's been obvious in the two sequels, simply by her absence, how much her presence in Raiders was integral to making the legend of Indy come alive. She gave Indy a past---and a caddish one at that. But she also established that he had his redeeming points, particularly when he mourned her in the bar in Cairo. He could have been a blank slate, but he came with baggage, and that made him all the more compelling a character. That's why I'm SO stoked to see that they brought Marion back for this new one. I have missed her terribly. (According to IMDB, we will also see Abner, Marion's father, for the first time, and he's being played by the always excellent John Hurt. I'm assuming this will be in flashback format, since it was established in Raiders that Abner was dead.)
But there are several things about this trailer that are very disturbing. Very, very disturbing. First off, what's with the lead-in that paints Indy as the next messiah? "He protected the power of the divine?" Hardly. If you'll remember he wanted the Ark to be opened up repeatedly and studied, but the government disagreed with him. "He saved the cradle of civilization?" I don't really remember Temple of Doom all that well---I refuse to watch it again because it was so horrible---but I think that might be a bit of a stretch. "He triumphed over the armies of evil?" What? He defeated Hitler singlehandedly? While Indy's a fairly resourceful dude, I doubt even he could have managed that. He looked like he was about to shit his pants when Hitler autographed the Grail Diary.
This introduction just makes me wary. Georgie Porgie Puddin' and Pie Lucas seemingly is unable to work with shades of gray---his characters of late are either all good, or all bad. For example, he reworked the cantina scene in Star Wars to have Greedo shoot first, instead of Han, who was the culprit in the original edition. Everything white must be good. Everything in black must be bad. There's no in-between. No nuance. I know he'd probably argue otherwise, but this is my impression. Lawrence Kasdan---the original screenwriter who gave Indy breath, bones, flesh, and flaws---where are you when we need you? Indy is not the messiah. He's not even all that good, in the scheme of things. Now, I will grant you that, with Last Crusade, the kiddification of Indiana Jones had already started, but they have the opportunity to turn it around with this film, and I sincerely hope they do. But with Lucas holding the purse strings, well, you have to wonder if it will actually happen.
The next problem I have with this is that, apparently, Indy's got a sidekick---again---in Ray Winstone. While I like Winstone just fine, the last time Indy had a sidekick, well, it was Short Round in Temple of Doom and we all know how well that worked out. (I don't count Indy's Dad as a sidekick. He was on the same level as Indy, not beneath him, which is where a sidekick generally resides. Sallah doesn't really count either, because there was a certain quality about him that just doesn't qualify him for sidekick mode. He could arrange any number of things for Indy---sidekicks are just along for the ride, and to throw Indy his whip when it's out of his reach.) Indy, for all intents and purposes, is a loner. His work is at its best when he works by himself. A sidekick will simply slow things down, and create too much bleedin' exposition. I hope they treat Ray well. I really do, but, gracious, it certainly doesn' t bode well.
I don't know how excited I am to see that there's the possibility of a "New Indy" being introduced, either. Yes, you need someone to bring in the younger viewers, especially since it's been nineteen years since Last Crusade was released, but Shia LeBeouf? You couldn't come up with anyone else? Eh. I don't know. I think this casting move also harks back to the Lucas kiddification. Gotta have someone the kids can relate to. Bleh.
But there are also good points to this trailer. Cate Blanchett apparently is the villainess (replete with jet black hair!), and she rarely, if ever, sucks, so it's got that going for it. And, of course, Marion makes her return, so there's that, too. It's also got a warehouse full of wooden boxes, and US Army cars and trucks. Hmmm. Where have we seen that before? Could it be that Indy, and his trusty sidekick (sigh!) are going in to try and retrieve the Ark? Hmmm? Trying to tie up some loose strings? I don't know. It's also, apparently, got ancient temples replete with booby traps, and that collapse at the drop of a fedora.
Sigh.
I JUST DON'T KNOW ABOUT ANY OF THIS!
I'll be there, first in line, when it's released, but, really and truly, THIS HAD BETTER NOT SUCK! They ended it on a good note with Last Crusade. I can only hope that they don't regret making another sequel, and that I don't regret handing over $8.50 to see it.
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February 13, 2008
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February 11, 2008
Anyhoo, the husband forwarded this interview with Mike Rowe along, and not surprisingly, I laughed just as much reading it as I would have had I been watching his show. Here's one brief, but hilarious, excerpt, regarding Mike's pre-Dirty Jobs days at QVC:
{...}QVC taught Rowe the ins and outs of live TV and how to talk off the cuff on just about anything. "There was no training," he recalls. "Nothing." Working the ultimate graveyard shift--3 a.m. to 6 a.m.--Rowe was left alone to hawk thousands of different products pretty much however he wanted. "Basically, I just made fun of the products and the callers. I was a complete anarchist." He was selling lava lamps, Hummels, and other nonsense, and falling in love with the occasional hand model.Then came the business with the nun doll. He had just returned from a weekend getaway involving the beach, a case of Dos Equis, and one of those hand models, when a Sunday-evening emergency call arrived from the studio: The prime-time host was ill. Eager to prove his mettle, Rowe rubbed the weekend from his eyes and headed into work, only to find a display of collectible girlie dolls waiting for him. "There were dozens of little hobbits," he recalls, still sounding vaguely offended some 18 years later. "Little pixies from another time, just sitting there like these little Victorian whores. I thought it was a joke."
He was about to be humiliated in his first shot at prime time. "I'd already called everyone I knew to watch." The producer tried to calm him down, but in his panic, Rowe just reverted to his usual shtick. He picked up the first doll, Rachel--"a nightmare in crushed velvet"--by the hair and plopped her in his lap. "I think I described her as 'soulless, a little creepy but kind of hot,' and as 'a runaway from Little Women,'" he says now, rubbing his head. The crew on the set was dumbstruck. But, Rowe says, "I was really encouraged because the little whore sold out in record time."
Then someone handed Rowe a 2-foot nun doll named Sister Mary Margaret. "If you wound her up, she played 'Climb Every Mountain,' which I thought was hysterical." Rowe had four minutes to kill but ran out of material in 30 seconds, including the time he spent having her spank him with a ruler. Then he tried to crank up her music feature. "I've already announced that she plays music, and I'm squeezing her hand, looking around her neck, but I can't figure it out." When the technical director finally cut away to a display version of the same doll, Rowe, in desperation, turned the little sister upside down in his lap and peeled down her garment. He finally found the crank "in the small of her back, but it's really sort of in her ass." Unfortunately, the technical director cut back to Rowe without warning: "Suddenly, I see myself live on the monitor, with Sister Mary Margaret's face in my crotch, my hand on her ass, and her habit around her neck. And the damn thing is playing 'Climb Every Mountain.'" Rowe froze in horror, then made an unfortunate gesture not suitable for prime time. "It was not good." {...}
Go read the whole thing.
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February 08, 2008
When I was a young girl, I whined volubly about the amount of chores I had to do. They usually revolved around "inside chores," because that's what the girls did in our household. The boys got the manly, outside chores. This, of course, ultimately meant that I---and my three sisters---was forced to clean their bathroom. I didn't think this was very fair and, of course, I whined about it. This cut very little ice with my mother. Her reply to my complaints was always, "Why do you think I had eight kids? Slave labor!"
If she'd been of a different generation, she would have followed it up with a "Duh."
I suspect the Cake Eater Mother would support Robbo's plan.
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Khodorkovsky was in court on a hearing related to new fraud and embezzlement charges levied against him, and he spoke with the FT's reporter during a break. You can read the transcript of the interview here. I have to say, I don't really know what to make of the entire situation. Khodorkovsky is currently on a hunger strike, to protest the treatment of one of his former Yukos' vice presidents, who was being offered treatment for some medical problems in return for falsifying testimony against Khodorkovsky. The former Yukos vice president refused, and so Khodorkovsky decided to starve himself to try and get his vice president admitted to a Moscow hospital for treatment. So, for someone who has put himself up as a martyr for democracy, and is currently starving himself so that a fellow prisoner (and friend) can get medical treatment, I kind of expected more vitriol against Putin and his hand picked successor, Dmitry Medvedev. Not so.
FT: Do you think Medvedev believes in the rule of law? When he becomes president is some kind of change possible?MK: It’s very difficult for me to predict, because it will be so difficult for him. I can’t even imagine. Honestly speaking, if you asked me how to get Russia out of this situation, I would be utterly lost. Tradition, and the state of people’s minds, and the lack of forces able to [support] any movement towards the rule of law, everything’s against him. So…may God grant him the strength to do it. All we can do is hope.”
But that's not the only curious answer Khodorkovsky gave:
FT: Some people say fear is returning to Russia, that things could go back to the Soviet eraÂ…MK: I hope that that wonÂ’t happen. We need to be ready for the bestÂ…I donÂ’t think it will happen. People can leave freely, the internet works. ItÂ’s just not possible.
FT: But the Federation Council will examine a law on internet this week?
MK: ThatÂ’s just not possible. Everyone clearly understands that innovation is important, we wonÂ’t be able to survive without innovative technology.
FT: But does the government understand that?
MK: The government understands it very well. Even the oil industry canÂ’t work properly without innovation. There can be situations where itÂ’s very difficult to develop an oil well. Without innovation you canÂ’t do it.{...}
Naive? I don't think anyone in their right mind could claim that Khodorkovsky, of all people, is naive. That's just not a possiblity. Beaten down to the point where all he has is hope to cling to? Perhaps. Not in his right mind because he hasn't eaten in ten days? Well within the realm of possibilities. Trying to play the game Putin's way, and is putting out the message that he's finally gotten with the program in the hopes that the establishment will ease up on him? Again, well within the realm of possibilities. I don't really know. It's all very curious. Very, very curious.
But I have to say, what I was really hoping for was some enlightening commentary on this issue:
FT: WhatÂ’s your attitude to the auctions of Yukos assets that took place last year?MK: I reacted to all that fairly calmly. Because I used up all my nerves in 2004, when a company that was working well was seized and handed over to Rosneft. Rosneft today is basically Yukos with a bit added on. To a large extent, itÂ’s the same people. The production capacity is 75 per cent the same. Rosneft is Yukos after three years of peredelok.
What the hell? His former company headquarters sells for almost $4B US to an unknown entity, when everyone claimed it wasn't worth more than $300M, and all he's got to say about it is that he reacted fairly calmly to it? Sheesh. It's not like I expected all that much, but come on! This is Russia, for chrissakes! Ate least wrap your answer up in an enigma that will leave me wondering for days, bub. Get with the program, eh?
Go read the whole thing. The answers may not be all that enlightening, but if you read between the lines, well, perhaps you might get your Russian Grandmaster political jones satisfied.
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February 07, 2008
Our choice of kindling is the leftover Financial Times we have lying around the house. The FT usually puts out a lot of supplements, covering things like digital business to, as was recently the case, the World Economic Forum at Davos. Last night, I pulled out that supplement to get the fire going, and how sweet it was because guess who was on the cover?
Yes, you guessed right: it was Al Gore.
How sweet it was to set Al Gore on fire. I relished every moment that section of the paper burnt, spreading his warmth and light to the logs. I watched as he turned to ash and scattered under the grate. It was brilliant and satisfying in a way that really isn't a normal part of my day.
The Goricle: Helping Boost Carbon Emissions at the Cake Eater Pad since 2008!
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February 06, 2008
This morning was no different in the rounding up of a stray doctor. But the details are where the difference was made. Overheard around ten a.m.
"Available OB to Room 222. Stat."
Three minutes later, the same voice and message appeared. The difference was in the delivery.
Available OB to Room 222. STAT."
Two minutes later, another announcement came booming through the loudspeakers:
STAT! ANY AVAILABLE OB TO ROOM 222! STAT!"
Shortly thereafter the familiar, light, cheerful chimes rang throughout the hospital, on, of course, the intercom system.
Room 222 is located in the maternity wing and the chimes ring whenever a baby is born.
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February 05, 2008
1. I suspect I am not the only person who is relatively up on political things, yet who has absolutely no interest in watching the Super Tuesday returns.
Just. Don't. Care. And you can't make me.
2. Three-quarter-length sleeves drive me up the goddamn wall.
I bought a couple of what I thought were long sleeved tee shirts at Le Boutique de La Target a couple of weeks ago, and when they turned out to be three-quarter-length, I was pissed off, but hell, I should have looked more closely instead of just grabbing a few off the pile and heading for the checkout counter. I mean, honestly, it's just a tee shirt---this shouldn't be that difficult of a purchase. Yeah, I know. Caveat emptor and all that, yadda, yadda, yadda. Whatever. I'm still going to whine about them.
While the shirts nicely enhance my (fabulous) rack, they, however, neither keep my forearms warm, nor do they allow me to escape the hot flashes I still have on occasion (and have more frequently when I'm at the hospital because that place is broiling hot.). Besides, they just feel funky. Like you washed a shirt in hot water and the sleeves shrunk. They're the shirt equivalent of floods.
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February 04, 2008
The shape of Stewie's head really does give him the blocking advantage. He had some pretty sweet moves.
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