"Us rich white men cannot stand for this oppression."

Kids reenact the Revolutionary War! It goes a lot faster than I remember from 4th grade history, but I'm guessing they've got it right. British family across the pond, listen up! This is what happens when you try to tax us without giving us appropriate representation in Parliament: you get children in tricorn hats hitting you with baguettes! (mmmm, baguettes.)



Also, the kid at the end has it right: "Now let's party!" Happy birthday, America! Stay classy!

(Video from Babelgum, by way of Jezebel.)

The obligatory Blackhawks post

So, most people who meet me are not surprised to find out that I have very little interest in sports. I love the idea of sports and sports fanaticism, of a civil religion of sorts that draws communities together around a common goal, but actually sitting down and watching a game is sort of beyond me.

Except, apparently, for the fact that Chicago is totally changing me. I went to a Cubs game a few weeks ago (I know, I know, the Cubs suck and their fans are usually really unpleasant, but Wrigley Field is historic! And it's a classic baseball experience!) and I really enjoyed myself. Even more game-changing (see? I make sports puns!), though, is my Chicago Blackhawks experience.

I've always had a fond spot in my heart for hockey - any sport that involves ice skates, extreme speed, violence and toothlessness is okay in my book. But I've just watched a six-game play-off series for the first time, and I am astonished by how fun it was. And twenty minutes ago, the Chicago Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup series against the Philadelphia Flyers, and I found myself jumping and screaming at the TV in my hipster friend's apartment while the city below us went absolutely NUTS.

All of which is to say: Chicago has turned me into a bona fide hockey fan. And with a change like that, who knows what comes next? Maybe I'll even decide to watch Shakespeare in Love!* Crazy changes are afoot!

*Don't hold your breath. This will never happen.

Semper Gumby: always flexible

I am so freaking late to the game on this one, but it has to be said: Generation Kill is AMAZING. The miniseries, I mean... I haven't read the book it's based on, but after watching only two episodes of the show I know it's next on my reading list (after I finish a truly depressing non-fiction account of the building of the Oklahoma City bombing memorial... you can probably guess why it's taking me a while.)

But honestly, I can't get over how phenomenal Generation Kill is. I've been nursing a cold (four months of winter the likes of which is usually only seen in Siberia, and the moment the sun comes out I get sick) so I've been staying in a lot, which has given me TONS of time with which to watch tv on my crappy little laptop screen. Its just like the summer after freshman year of college when I sprained my ankle and spent two months catching up on Veronica Mars, Alias and Sports Night, only this won't last as long.

The show is so well-paced, so well-edited, and the writing is tight, terse and clever all at once. I don't know why I'm surprised, given that David Simon (he of the Wire and Treme) is so centrally involved, but I am just floored by what I've been watching. And I say this as someone who really doesn't like war movies. I mean, don't get me wrong: watching shit blow up on screen is one of my favorite past-times, but I'm well aware that I prefer my violence fantastical and escapist rather than realistic and depressing. In Generation Kill, though, they neither glorify the violence or try to make it a tragic epic about the moral costs of war - instead, it just really feels like we're following these men through an actual invasion, with all the violence and humor and bureaucratic screw-ups that comes with it.

Anyway, I'm only two episodes in so I'm sure my appreciation for the miniseries will become more complex and reflective as I make my way through, but I just thought it had to be said now: Generation Kill is FANTASTIC, and anyone who isn't watching it needs to start right now.



*Oh, and one more thing: this is Ray, my favorite character so far. He got burned by an illegal camp stove that one of the other Marines was using to make espresso! He was on the debate team in high school, but all his fellow teammates thought he was high on uppers all the time! He wears pimp sunglasses and knows all the words to Avril Lavigne songs! He also has some of the most epic speeches on American society, the war, and the ridiculous recruitment commercials the Marines made with that stupid dragon, but they aren't very family friendly. If I removed all the swear words from my favorite monologue so far there would be, like, five other words, and most of them would be definite articles. In short: I LOVE YOU RAY.

There's two things in the world you never want to let people see how you make 'em: laws and sausages.

Have I talked about The West Wing? I know I'm late to the party - like, ten years late, but I believe in making a fashionably tardy entrance. I've been watching the first season (in between writing up a storm of personal statements for grad school and battling the actual snow storm outside my house) and holy crap, that was an amazing show.

Aaron Sorkin is sort of a sore spot for a lot of TV enthusiasts. It seems like either you love him and think he's God's gift to television or you hate him and wish he would die in a fire. And preferably take his too-witty fast-walking characters with him. But I've always sort of viewed myself as a swing-vote when it comes to Sorkin: I hated Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip but I thought Sports Night was probably the most underappreciated tv show of the last 15 years (and given that that year-span includes Veronica Mars, that's saying something) Clearly, I have unresolved issues. But people, West Wing... it's a revelation.

I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised. I mean, this is a tv show about the United States! And government! And smart people! Those are three things I adore! And the writing itself is so unapologetically in love with the idea of America, so optimistic about what American government could do, the positive agent of change it could be... I'm getting all verklempt just thinking about it. It's sort of strange to watch it now with 8 years of the Bush administration under my belt, but I'm also noticing a lot of overlaps between the Obama administration and the rocky start of the fictional Bartlet government.

Mostly I think I love The West Wing because it's just so ridiculously nerdy, and completely willing to revel in that fact. To wit, I leave you with the Antiquities Act (my fave!), a banking bill, and a fictional American president waxing rhapsodic over the great insitution of America's national parks*:





*I love the national parks too! Come hang out with me, President Bartlet... we can drink tea and I'll tell you all about Grey Towers! It'll be awesome.

All the president's men...

One of whom apparently wanted to firebomb the Brookings Institution.

I've been reading All the President's Men, by Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward. The definitive account of the Watergate break-in and the subsequent hunt for the truth that lead to President Nixon's resignation, it is amazing in it's breadth and detail. But strangely, despite the veritable laundry list of felonies and almost-crimes committed by members of the White House staff and approved by the freaking President of the United States of America, what gets to me the most is the fact that burning down the Brookings Institution was tossed around as a potential game plan by the Watergate conspirators.

This is pretty much how it went down: a member of Henry Kissinger's staff (who, incidentally, also had his phone wiretapped illegally by the White House... you know, no biggie) left the Secretary of State's office to join the Brookings Institution, a policy think-tank in DC. He was believed to have taken some classified documents with him when he left, and certain members of the White House wanted them back. Break-ins were a real popular method of political espionage and sabotage around those parts back then, but the White House needed a way to cover it up. I can just imagine how this goes: a whole bunch of whitebread, clean-cut government officials sitting around a White House office, smoking cigarettes and tossing out ideas. And then some bright soul (Chuck Colson, specifically!) says, "hey, I know, why don't we set it on fire?!"

Apparently his suggestion freaked some people out and they backed off from the plan entirely, but still. I mean, the White House was operating in such a way in which a trusted member of the team, someone who had a DIRECT line to the President, could suggest firebombing an American organization and no one would think twice about it. I am going to repeat this, so you can experience the full import of it: firebombing the Brookings Institution. FIREBOMBING. It's so absurd, and yet terrifyingly possible! I just... I am floored.

Colson went on to deny that he had suggested burning the Brookings Institution down as a way to cover up their break-in (in fact, he jokingly said that he'd actually been talking about setting the Washington Post on fire, because that's just a side-splitter right there) but many sources claimed that he was lying.

I know this shouldn't astonish me - after all, these men were committing crimes left and right. Still, there is something so brazen, so viciously open and brutally honest about planning to firebomb a building on American soil that really drives home the powerful can't-touch-me attitude that these men had. It reminds me of one of my favorite lines in last year's Frost/Nixon, where the now-resigned and bitter ex-President Nixon yells at reporter David Frost, "Well, when the president does it, that means that it is not illegal!" But really, what should I expect? As a source tells Woodward in All the President's Men, "the President is... well, a felon."

All of this is to say: if you haven't read All the President's Men, do it. And then call me, so we can get worked up about the subversion of the democratic process and the importance of checks and balances, law and order, and having a government that respects the laws that constrains it. Good times, y'all.

The tell-tale wombs of Lewiston, Maine

I spend a large portion of my working hours in a basement filled with boxes upon boxes of clothes. It's a little like being at a perpetual rummage sale, only you can't touch, try on, or buy any of the objects. And because I spend so much time in a basement, carving ethylfoam and cutting muslin to make costume mounts, flouncing ruffles and vacuuming dust out of pleats, and struggling with stacks of boxes filled with 19th century bicycling outfits (surprisingly adorable, PS), I also listen to a lot of radio.

Specifically, NPR. The radio in the South Costume Storage (the fancy name for my basement lair) is an analog dial radio, which means that changing the frequency is an exercise in dread, trepidation, and ultimate futility. To avoid the heartache of listening to static as I gamely turn the dial in search of music, I usually just keep it on NPR all the time. That means I get a lot of depressing BBC World Service stories (sorry, my British brethren, but your news, while poshly-spoken, is a bit of a downer), more pledge drives than I can shake a stick at, The Story from North Carolina (underappreciated and very interesting!) and, at 3 pm, All Things Considered.

All of this is meant as a lead-up to this announcement: if you haven't listened to the All Things Considered story on healthcare (part 1 of scheduled 3) that broadcast yesterday, DO IT. "The Tell-Tale Wombs of Lewiston, Maine," besides having a totally creepy and awesome title, is a fascinating look at why the heck healthcare in America costs so damn much, using the town of Lewiston as a case study. Maybe it's just that I don't actually know that much about the healthcare debate (except that as a technically unemployed young person, I'd like some, pretty please!) but I found it full of fascinating facts, disturbing realities, and strongly persuasive in addressing the need for a really dramatic overhaul of the American healthcare system.

So nu, what are you waiting for? Go! Listen! And tell me what you think!

Up, up and away

Just came back from a viewing of "Up" at the local multiplex. They have five-dollar Tuesdays, so I plan to see most of my summer blockbusters there. Or the Logan Theater, which is a tiny run-down jewel-box of a theater that plays second-runs for three bucks. Most movies eventually make it to the Logan, but it takes a while. The roommates and I couldn't wait to see "Up," so five-dollar Tuesday it was.

And let me tell you, IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH THE FIVE BUCKS. Seriously. As usual, Pixar* blows it out of the water. The colors, the shapes, the freaking masterful storytelling - I just... there are no words. Except these: go see it.

*Sidenote: the summer after high school I worked in downtown Emeryville in an office where my job was to purge old files and refile open cases. Yeah, it was thrilling. Every morning I caught the free Emeryville shuttle from McCarthur BART station. The shuttle went past the Pixar campus, and every day I watched as hip, cool, nerdy looking people in comfortable clothes and messenger bags got off at the pearly gates of Pixar and sauntered into work, looking happy and content, while the rest of us trundled on in the shuttle wearing our uncomfortable heels and ill-fitting suit pants. I swear, everytime after we dropped the Pixar folks off, the day got a little gloomier.

"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a..."

Oh wow, Star Trek.



Now to be fair, while I'm not what one might call a Trekkie* I did spend my formative years tagging along after one and absorbed some of the obsessive Star Trek love via osmosis. Still, even if I weren't already a fan, I'm pretty sure I would still think this movie was made of awesome. Because it is. Made of awesome, I mean. Seriously, go see it. I mean, it's fun and explosive and colorful and still stays true (kinda) to the foundational message of Star Trek: space racism is bad!

*Side note: when I spellchecked this entry, "Trekkie" wasn't highlighted as a misspelled (or nonexistent) word. Which means that it's entered into the Blogger dictionary. Oh, Google Blogger. Way to wave your freak flag.

"If you were a man, I'd knock your block off."

I just got back from a screening of "Victor/Victoria," and it has proven two things to me: that 1. Julie Andrews is the Queen of Everything, and 2. James Garner was smokin' hot as a youngster.

I'm serious, folks. I don't think I realized just how amazing he was in his younger years. I mean, you never hear him mentioned in the list of the truly attractive Hollywood stars of yesteryears: Paul Newman, Marlon Brando, James Dean, etc. But really, after seeing "Victor/Victoria" and being reminded of how much I loved "The Americanization of Emily" (also, strangely, starring Julie Andrews), I think I might have to add Garner to my personal list of Faces I Love to Look At.

Here, take a gander:



No one does square-jawed American insouciance like James Garner. Almost enough to make you forgive him for "The Notebook", isn't it?

Best. Break-Up Song. Ever.

Okay, actually: Best. Let's Not Break Up. Song. Ever. But that just looks weird. Readers, I give you a sample of why this song is amazing:

I was thinkin'
about Abraham Lincoln
and how he made our union right

I started drinkin'
dipped my head in the sink and
cried out "why aren't you hear tonight"

Yes, a break-up song having to do with Abraham Lincoln. It's called "The War of Northern Aggression" and its by the wonderfully-named Two Man Gentlemen Band. In case you need more convincing, here's the chorus:

I ain't satisfied
if you've got secession on your mind
like the Mason-Dixon line
running between us

Screw it - just take a listen here: "The War of Northern Aggression," by The Two Man Gentlemen Band.

And then check out them out at Serious Business Records and buy their records at iTunes or (preferably) your local record store. Believe me, you will not regret it.