I don't know it's name, I just know the sound it makes when it LIES!!!
"If I stub my toe, that's tragedy. If you fall down a manhole and die, that's comedy."
--Mel Brooks
So far, I don't like anything Danny McBride has done as star, but he had some of my favorite lines in Tropic Thunder. Makes me think he has to have something more going on under the surface. I am, no doubt, destined to be dissapointed.
Today's lunch is Ramen noodles with boiled egg, shallot, Cholula, malt vinegar, cracked green peppercorn, Celtic sea salt, and, the real secret weapon, Jack Link's Spicy Thai Beef Jerky. If you look closely, about 11 o'clock in the bowl, right next to the egg quarter, you will see a piece. The jerky didn't completely rehydrate, so it's still a little chewy, but still. Yum, dude.
Today's movie is not Who The @#$% is Jackson Pollock. One, for rednecks dissing Pollock. You don't dig Pollock, fuck you. Sorry, but that's how I feel. Second: it's not a Pollock. It just isn't. I mean, it's close, in a way, like someone tried real hard to approximate-- not copy, but approximate by technique-- No. 5, 1948. But it is not a Pollock. It just isn't.
Secondly, I hate faked forensics. Forensics can be fixed, just like anything else, and you have to recognize that. I didn't finish watching it because I was getting goddamned sick of these supposed experts "authenticating" the lady's painting by the tiniest, pickiest little bit of crap that could have come about any number of ways, or, for that matter, been utterly faked. True, the art world people are annoying as well, as is the lady, but when you get to that level, what am I supposed to do? Root for my favorite fucking annoying group? The only one in the whole thing I think I could stand to be in a room with for more than four minutes is the lady's son in law, and we would have to change the fucking subject.
Pollock's are darker. More . . . angular. This is too thought out. Too deliberately random. Pollock is effortlessly angry. This is too clever by half. Just like the lady.
Back to Danny McBride: I have not seen most of what he has been in: Heartbreak Kid and Pineapple Express both got good, solid efforts at veiwing before I gave up. In both cases, I got why they were supposedly funny, but I had a hard time working up sympathy for character who basically brought all their woes on themselves before handling them very, very badly. Now, if they had all fallen down a man hole and died . . .
Eastbound and Down I watched the first episode of before letting Nabin take over the viewing duties, and just following his weekly summaries. It went almost exactly where I thought it would, which was next to nowhere, and although I could see why it could be seen as funny, again, all people I would LOVE to have seen fall down a manhole and die. And I have not yet seen Foot Fist Way, because, actually, I knew that asshole, and in addition to not being funny, he was a pain in the ass. So maybe someday, but the circumstances would have to be pretty copacetic. Yet still, I see where McBride is going with his social satire-- yeah, I know it's not all him, but he seems to be picking his bits pretty carefully-- and I seem to think there's something there besides petty, crusde cruelty humor.
Then again, we are living in the age of Jud Apatow, so I guess I ought to expect the fun to get wrung out of just about everything these days.
--Mel Brooks
So far, I don't like anything Danny McBride has done as star, but he had some of my favorite lines in Tropic Thunder. Makes me think he has to have something more going on under the surface. I am, no doubt, destined to be dissapointed.
Today's lunch is Ramen noodles with boiled egg, shallot, Cholula, malt vinegar, cracked green peppercorn, Celtic sea salt, and, the real secret weapon, Jack Link's Spicy Thai Beef Jerky. If you look closely, about 11 o'clock in the bowl, right next to the egg quarter, you will see a piece. The jerky didn't completely rehydrate, so it's still a little chewy, but still. Yum, dude.
Today's movie is not Who The @#$% is Jackson Pollock. One, for rednecks dissing Pollock. You don't dig Pollock, fuck you. Sorry, but that's how I feel. Second: it's not a Pollock. It just isn't. I mean, it's close, in a way, like someone tried real hard to approximate-- not copy, but approximate by technique-- No. 5, 1948. But it is not a Pollock. It just isn't.
Secondly, I hate faked forensics. Forensics can be fixed, just like anything else, and you have to recognize that. I didn't finish watching it because I was getting goddamned sick of these supposed experts "authenticating" the lady's painting by the tiniest, pickiest little bit of crap that could have come about any number of ways, or, for that matter, been utterly faked. True, the art world people are annoying as well, as is the lady, but when you get to that level, what am I supposed to do? Root for my favorite fucking annoying group? The only one in the whole thing I think I could stand to be in a room with for more than four minutes is the lady's son in law, and we would have to change the fucking subject.
Pollock's are darker. More . . . angular. This is too thought out. Too deliberately random. Pollock is effortlessly angry. This is too clever by half. Just like the lady.
Back to Danny McBride: I have not seen most of what he has been in: Heartbreak Kid and Pineapple Express both got good, solid efforts at veiwing before I gave up. In both cases, I got why they were supposedly funny, but I had a hard time working up sympathy for character who basically brought all their woes on themselves before handling them very, very badly. Now, if they had all fallen down a man hole and died . . .
Eastbound and Down I watched the first episode of before letting Nabin take over the viewing duties, and just following his weekly summaries. It went almost exactly where I thought it would, which was next to nowhere, and although I could see why it could be seen as funny, again, all people I would LOVE to have seen fall down a manhole and die. And I have not yet seen Foot Fist Way, because, actually, I knew that asshole, and in addition to not being funny, he was a pain in the ass. So maybe someday, but the circumstances would have to be pretty copacetic. Yet still, I see where McBride is going with his social satire-- yeah, I know it's not all him, but he seems to be picking his bits pretty carefully-- and I seem to think there's something there besides petty, crusde cruelty humor.
Then again, we are living in the age of Jud Apatow, so I guess I ought to expect the fun to get wrung out of just about everything these days.
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