Even though I give it an overall grade of B-, I still find some significant problems that makes this a somewhat disappointing follow-up to Casino Royale. For full enlightenment, read the whole thing RIGHT HERE.
Being the hard-core James Bond fan that I am, I would be remiss not to point out the new issue of Her Majesty’s Secret Servant. It’s a particularly fine James Bond website/e-zine, and this is a particularly fine issue, with a particularly fine special feature covering the James Bond Film villains of fame and fable.
I don’t know that it needs to be made explicit, but this superlative enterprise, this venerable organ now in its 11th year, is published by the most excellent Mr. Tom Zielinski, and my own humble self. Our staff of senior editors and contributing writers are Bond fans of the highest caliber and greatest perscapacity, and are all good people to boot. The graphics, design, and layout are all done by (cough, cough)… moi.
You are cordially invited to take a look.
I have no use for any kind words — or even moderate words — for this whacked-out religious freak, this blood-stupid monster, this truly warped political mutant. Please, oh please, oh please, America… don’t let this filthy, evil bitch anywhere near the White House!
While the cretins who do this sort of thing get their rocks off, and their enablers caper, by proxy, with savage glee, pause for a moment to ask God (the real God, not whatever dark, shambling deity Palin worships,) to bestow what blessings and protection He will:
PRAYER FOR ANIMALS (attributed to Albert Schweitzer)
Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends the animals,
especially for animals who are suffering;
for animals that are overworked, underfed and cruelly treated;
for all wistful creatures in captivity that beat their wings against bars;
for any that are hunted or lost or deserted or frightened or hungry;
for all that must be put death.
We entreat for them all Thy mercy and pity,
and for those who deal with them we ask a heart of compassion
and gentle hands and kindly words.
Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals,
and so to share the blessings of the merciful.
The rest is up to us voters.
This TV commercial, for Korean Air, has been driving me bugnuts ever since I first noticed it, maybe a year ago. It’s got my vote for the Stupidest Commercial in TV History Award, or somesuch. (If there isn’t such an honorific, we just might have to create one, to find a home for this thing.)
Filmed in a cool teal-and-gray color scheme, and accompanied by some nicely-chilled Downtempo music, we get a succession of images of goofily well-dressed nouveau riche hepcats in various languid poses — vainly fighting, I guess, the ol’ ennui.
Various adjectives float about the screen in a non-sequitur accompaniment: Exquisite; Visionary; Breathtaking; Graceful; Pledging (WTF is “pledging”??); Understanding; etc. The “Understanding” badge is also the oddest — some guy holding a champagne bottle at crotch level, popping the cork with one hand, while an expensively-shod pair of women’s feet dominate the forescreen. Weird, I tell you! See for yourself:
If it was the responsible advertising agency’s intent to get me to be aware of their client’s product, then they’ve succeeded. If it was their intent to get me to want to use their client’s product, then, uh… not so much. EPIC FAIL, dudes.
The Republican candidate for the presidency, Sen. John McCain, is shown here offering Gov. Sarah Palin the VP slot in his campaign. The noted trophy husband’s gifts in dealing with women are clearly on display here — see how he offers himself up as her bitch.
Funny, funny stuff!
My respect for — hell, my adoration of — Mr. Clint Eastwood knows no bounds. As a kid, I liked The Man with No Name; as a teenager, I dug Dirty Harry. They were badasses, and they were so. very. cool. As an adult, I’m consistently amazed and delighted with the depths of his artistic integrity, his vision, his imagination, and his sheer technical skill as a filmmaker. A lot of his movies will still be being viewed a hundred years from now. Clint Eastwood is a national treasure.
But you knew that.
Anyway, he’s joining the ranks of other Great Film Directors in my Flickr set of that name. I like the way he looks now; like a combination of wind and sun and sand have blasted away all unnecessary skin, fat, and connective tissue — leaving just the burning brilliance of his core essence. Here he is, in all his scowly glory:
I’m not ranking these guys, but he’s up there with Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles, John Ford, Howard Hawks, Akira Kurosawa, James Whale, Stanley Kubrick, François Truffaut, and Billy Wilder. Next up, I think, is Michael Curtiz. On the other hand, I’ve seen a lot of films by Alan Smithee…