In lieu of anything more earth-shaking to report, I give you one of my favorite Conan O’Brien recurring characters, the Interrupter.
There’s a 12-year old in my head; he was fimly in the driver’s seat when I went to watch Transformers: The Movie. Problem is, the 33-year-old in my head was along for the ride, too, and he’s the kind of annoying back-seat driver they invented road-rage manslaughter verdicts for.
So here’s the two of them watching Transformers in full live-action glory: the 12-year-old practically coming in his pants every time the Autobots roll into view, the 33-year old making fun of the hackneyed dialogue. The 12-year old thinks Optimus Prime rocks; the 33-year old thinks Bumblebee is pathetic, though is willing to give him props for kicking Barricade’s ass.
As I was walking out of SM Cinema 6, I overheard the two of them talking the movie over. SPOILERS AHEAD, CLICK/SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK. Read more…
Give the moron who writes the captions for Inquirer a prize! Either he was scraping the bottom of his stock-phrases barrel or he’s posing us a Zen koan of incomparable depth. Or maybe it’s just me. You tell me: is there something wrong with describing someone who has his fingers crossed as, “exud[ing] supreme confidence?”
I don’t know, but someone “exuding supreme confidence” in a down-the-wire senatorial race would be… not crossing his fingers, I guess. Smoking a cigar, maybe? Having a celebratory roll in the hay with one’s hot wife? Yes to either (yes, yes to the latter)… but if you’re “supremely confident” about your victory, you surely wouldn’t be seen invoking a sign of good luck!
If you’ve read on to the end of the caption, one can only sense the “supreme confidence” of a caption writer who badly needs to take a refresher course in Writing English that Makes Sense, but plunges on nonetheless. In any case, bravo, anonymous caption writer. It takes a writer of considerable courage – or clumsiness – to end a caption with “He also wears a wide smile.”
The cast list for Anthony Minghella’s TV-movie adaptation of The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency is out, and I have to admit I’m geeking out a bit.
I love this book series for its simplicity, its moral clarity, and its unabashedly feel-good tone; I love it so much, I’ve foisted the book on anyone who seems remotely interested in fiction of that sort, with mixed reactions. Now, with a TV miniseries on its way, I can foist to my heart’s content when it comes out on local listings. A year or so from now, but still.
The choices don’t seem too surprising in retrospect; some genius choices, albeit the lineup isn’t exactly perfect. I reserve the right to quibble a bit, but overall it’s a satisfactory casting call. Here are the people confirmed by my numerous sources on teh Intarwebs: Read more…
“Now this end is called the thagomizer, after the late Thag Simmons.” Thanks to Gary Larson, the word “thagomizer” is quickly gaining mileage as the official scientific term for a stegosaur’s tail spikes. Google search for “thagomizer”. I don’t know why this bit of news made me laugh out loud, but it just did.
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