Part Two of No Direction Home is far less interesting than Part One. I'm not even sure what it was about, except for Dylan trying to distance himself from his image as a folk protest singer. That's fine, though not for 90 minutes. But catch Part One on PBS if you can.
I don't own any porn, but there is a porn star I have a bit of a crush on, and I thought I might like to get one of her movies. I'd order it online, but I still feel enough shame that I believe clicking "Order" on a porn site will instantly forward a message to my fourth-grade teacher, who will cry silent tears of disappointment. Lucky for us all, there's an adult video shop near me, so a few nights ago, I decided to stop being a weenie and just call them up and see if they had the movie.
Complication I hadn't anticipated: the proprietor barely spoke English. If you enjoy telling a stranger that you're interested in Amateur Jizz Sluts From Jupiter, you'll love having to sound it out for someone who three months ago would have been arrested in his homeland for having this conversation. "...sluts, SLUTS, yes, jizz sluts, that's right, no, a-ma-ture, yes, I'll hold...."
My educated guess is that over half the people in this situation end up with a video called Fuck Me.
It's almost impossible to feel notably perverted or sex-obsessed if you run a blog like this one, and can see the searches that bring people to the site. A totally unremarkable sampling (the latest few dozen), are below the fold.
"camp sex \""first time\"""
the ditty bops-ooh la la
torrent my friends hot mom
"\""fuel efficiency\"" \""commuter train\"" what is"
boys nude camp
jennifer aniston liberal
boy wearing i fuck on the first date t shirt
"harvard \""al qaeda\"" mohamedou"
"cache:rgtvg4wunx0j:jgoodwin.net/ origin \""druid hills \"""
hack coke music accounts
christina aguilera is a liar
fuck stepmom videos
statistical fallacies stories
"\""girls making out\"" video"
self blow jobs
how many years in jail for rape in kansas
brad pitt having sex in public
biggest cock ever
two naked men together
"abu ghraib photos, unedited"
"\""a priest, a rabbi and a\"" joke"
alexandra kerry dress
i can suck my own cock
"\""new pornographers\"" \""t-shirt\"""
what does guido mean
angelina jolie sucks brad pitt\'s cock
\"24 inch waist\"
public health jokes
i\'ve slept with so many arab men
two mile hollow beach east hampton gay
t-shirts with funny notes
women with big breasts minus nudity and pornography
You know, save for the last five or six minutes of deflating cheese (and the giggling teenage girls in the row in front of me), Flightplan is actually pretty good. But, I admit, I don't mind unlikely plots, and I was perfectly content to watch Jodie Foster for a couple of hours, and there was bonus Greta Scacchi, so take the recommendation how you will.
Good lord, women are dreaming about me and no one thinks to tell me?
"Our cable went out, but we managed to ______rig an antenna out of tinfoil, so that we could watch the game."
Got your answer? More below the fold.
Apparently, there are two similar phrases: "jerry built" and "jury rigged." I, and I'm guessing lots of others, thought there was one just one phrase, "jerry rigged." Nope. "Jerry built" means something shoddily put together out of chintzy materials. "Jury rigged" means something assembled in a makeshift manner.
I just saw "jury rigged" in a book, and thought I'd caught an error. I was wrong. I had also been told that "jerry rigged" was a sanitized form of the original "nigger rigged," but that's also incorrect.
Since Katrina, [weatherman Scott] Stevens has been in newspapers across the country where he was quoted in an Associated Press story as saying the Yakuza Mafia used a Russian-made electromagnetic generator to cause Hurricane Katrina in a bid to avenge the atomic bomb attack on Hiroshima.
Admit it, you can't prove he's wrong.
Little did I know, when I started reading Slate's review of Flightplan (which we'll all see, even if we know if sucks, just because Jodie Foster is in it) that I would come across these two lines.
Edelstein gets an email about his review of JS Foer's book-turned-movie:
"You get paid for all this Jew-on-Jew navel-gazing? What a world!"—Helen Hall.
And from a column by Jillian Bandes in the Daily Tarheel:
I want all Arabs to be stripped naked and cavity-searched if they get within 100 yards of an airport.
It's pretty obvious that the problems in this world are all the fault of white women.
There's no delicate way to ask this: guys shaving their balls--just good hygeine, or kinda freaky-deaky?
It doesn't matter if you like Bob Dylan, you really need to watch No Direction Home if you're at all interested in American music. Part One, which I've just watched, isn't so much about Dylan as it is a musical tour with fantastic old clips, and commentary by Dylan and his remarkably candid and articulate contemporaries. So good.
(Tyler Cowen agrees.)
I did work at Borders, Ogged, and I'll confirm that it adds to misanthropy. I had a great time with the coworkers, who were generally smart and fun. But oi, the customers. I think some of them came in simply to be mean to people who couldn't fight back. Sort of a different kind of retail therapy.
Highlights: a guy who asked for blank books on tape; the apologetic businessman who stopped in on the off chance I might have heard of this crazy little thing called "what is it? Canon? Poc-o-bell? You know what I mean?" and who lit up when I showed him the three shelves full of Canon in D; the deaf guy who would try to use his disability to make me feel uncomfortable when hustling for a discount; the guy who called up to tell me to pick out a book and send it to his friend as a birthday present. Ah, good times.
I've worked some shit jobs in my life but, praise Jesus, never retail. I think I would have lasted three seconds. I was just at my local Borders, standing at one of the computer terminals, when a woman, around fifty, came and stood on the other side. Not so strange; chicks dig me, after all. Then a teenager, her daughter, came and stood next to her, and I looked up and nodded a brief acknowledgment before getting back to my search. Then the teenager said, in a tone of voice that truly and desperately told me "you must smack me upside the head RIGHT NOW," "I'm looking for Things Fall Apart." Seconds passed, as I scrolled through my results. It finally dawned on me, "Are you talking to me?" They nodded. "Oh, I don't work here." Daughter, disappointed, practically rolling her eyes; makes no move to find someone who actually does work there. Me, cheerily, "But good luck finding what you're looking for!"
She really needed to be smacked; I can't imagine interacting with people like that all day.
Speaking of dreams, I've been meaning to ask y'all about this. When I'm trying to fall asleep, the position I'm in makes a massive and immediate difference in the kinds of half-conscious falling-asleep thoughts I have. On my stomach, facing right is the way to pleasant reverie, with random images and voices floating by. It's a nice, but not particularly soporific position. On my back is much like being fully awake; it's almost impossible for me to fall asleep in this position, with regular old thoughts, worries, and daydreams in my head. On my stomach, facing left is the most interesting. It's by far the most sleepy-making. When I'm tired, I can sometimes fall asleep in a minute in this position. Unfortunately, it's also the gateway to hell. Horrific screams, people chasing me and trying to kill me...dozing off the other night, I realized after about a minute that the phrase "you're a horrible person" was being repeated over and over.
Surely I'm not the only one who's like this.
I was amused by parts, so you might be too. It's on the blue side, though.
"Just relax," Grant said, but his face was still in me, so I couldn't hear him, so I said, "What?" which is always a mood killer. That's one I gotta remember--never say "What?" during sex. Always better to guess wrong than to say "What?"
Get Your War On hasn't been very good since the first few, way back in the day, but the latest on Katrina is great.
My rather disturbing dream last night: I was retaking my general exams. Mstislav Rostropovich was on my committee, and he posed the following question:
Suppose that you had hired Rachmaninov. What grounds would be sufficient to fire him?
I gave seven reasons in response. The only ones I remember are:
(i) he is dead.
(vii) stylistic considerations demand hiring a different pianist.
Oddly, I had to write these answers out in the form of craft projects, e.g., by assembling brightly colored plastic sticks to spell out words. I sobbed quietly as I printed out (vii) with tiny sponges and finger paint while reflecting on the inadequacy of my answer.
D's brother's wife is in labor. I was speaking to D a few minutes ago and he said, "You should call my brother." I said, basically, "Wha?? His wife is in labor." D assured me that they were just waiting around, and that his brother would love to hear from me. I called. It rang about ten times, D's brother answered, "Ogged, we're kind of in the middle of something."
Not that it means anything to you, but... It's a girl!!
Powerline objects to Mohammad- Mahmoud Ould Mohamedou's views of al Qaeda. I was about to chide them for misreading; Mohamedou's language early in his op-ed suggests that he's merely making the point that understanding al Q as a possibly-rational actor is strategically important:
Overwhelmingly centered on the martial aspects of the conflict, scholars and policymakers have been too focused on Al Qaeda's ''irrationality," ''fundamentalism," and ''hatred" -- and these conceptions continue to color key analyses. The sway of such explanations is particularly surprising in the face of nonambiguous statements made by Al Qaeda as to the main reasons for its war on the United States. These have been offered consistently since 1996, notably in the August 1996 and February 1998 declarations of war and the November 2002 and October 2004 justifications for its continuation.
Seems sensible enough-- the charges of pure evil hinder more than they help. But just as I'm about to conclude that the Big Trunk has misread his text, I got to the money shot:
How can the war be brought to an end? Neither side can defeat the other. The United States will not be able to overpower a diffuse, ever-mutating, organized international militancy movement, whose struggle enjoys the rear-guard sympathy of large numbers of Muslims. Likewise, Al Qaeda can score tactical victories on the United States and its allies, but it cannot rout the world's sole superpower.
Though dismissed widely, the best strategy for the United States may well be to acknowledge and address the collective reasons in which Al Qaeda anchors its acts of force. Al Qaeda has been true to its word in announcing and implementing its strategy for over a decade. It is likely to be true to its word in the future and cease hostilities against the United States, and indeed bring an end to the war it declared in 1996 and in 1998, in return for some degree of satisfaction regarding its grievances. In 2002, bin Laden declared: ''Whether America escalates or deescalates this conflict, we will reply in kind."
Mohamedou, it seems, has made the error I'm usually so quick to charge Poweline with, namely, the conflation of understanding and endorsement. Maybe I'm misreading this, but it looks sort of like a howler to me
-- hence I certainly call down the power of God on the media and the Boston Globe in particular, to lay down the Law.
Ok, that was a dumb way to refer to one of my favorite lines ever, as utttered by one of the best-named clerics ever, Cardinal Law, an inaccessible large cardinal at that. Apologies. Long day.
UPDATE: Ogged has convinced me that "understanding->endorsement" isn't the way to put this. My thought was that Mohamedou had done what others who advocate understanding al Q are sophistically accused of doing, namely, excusing or justifying al Q. "Acknowledge and address the collective reasons" could be read as suggesting that they're good reasons. But it also could be that M thinks that the goals and motivations of al Q are loathsome, but it's better to capitulate because it's just not worth the trouble.
Both of these views seem too doofus-like to be held by anyone associated with Harvard, but then again...look at Yglesias' spelling. (Even though in all other respects, he is as a god among us, so take that, Tom Hilde.)
I don't think an American columnist would ever reveal this stuff about herself. Our dear Lucy Mangan:
I like eating, reading and watching TV. Since starting to work from home a year ago, this is all I do, which may explain why I am a third lard (33.8% body fat instead of the recommended 25%), and my fitness ratings suggest I am clinically dead. Oh, and measurement at my waist, belly button and hips latitudes are 29, 37 and 41.5in respectively, which makes me either a minor comic Dickens character or a bean bag.
I've never really understood where the "waist" is, but those sound like funny numbers.
It's one thing to write in the Times about the culture of suburban gay cruising--that's interesting stuff--but do you really have to reveal where it happens?
Long Island spots include Two Mile Hollow Beach in East Hampton, the Field 6 parking lot at Jones Beach, a rest stop near Exit 52 on the Long Island Expressway and the park-and-ride lot on Route 110 in Melville.
That seems gratuitous. It sounds like these were safe places for the men, and now, almost surely, they'll be forced out.
I'll be computerless for the evening, so if you've always wanted to spam a blog, this is your big chance.
Kieran Healy and Daniel Davies should quit Crooked Timber and go back to their own blogs, so we can have their posts and intelligent comments again.
Yeah: Barlow too, though he posts so infrequently that I always forget he blogs there.
A long and lovely post from Susan.
It was great to see friends and family, but only partly great. Friends and cousins around my age are now, or soon will be, measuring their incomes in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. I'm genuinely pleased for them, and am almost certain that I couldn't have sustained either the insane hours or travel or effort that they've put in to get to where they are. I've opted for a reasonable salary and regular hours in a low-stress job. Being able to take off in the middle of each day to swim outside for an hour is pretty fantastic. That's always seemed like a fair trade. But now that my mom is starting to think about retirement, and given that her retirement savings are just as modest as you'd expect a single-mother schoolteacher's to be, I'm beginning to think that not trying to make a pile of money will have been a selfish (or short-sighted) choice.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, who is even close to my age and who isn't grossly disfigured has either a wedding band or engagement ring. Some people wear both, and they should be beaten.
Sadly, I'll be at the late-December meeting of my profession in New York. I thought I'd treat myself while there, so I'm looking for your favorite Big Apple restaurant or entertainment. Preference: the nicest steak in all of Christendom. But I can be talked into trying something else.
UPDATE: it should be pricey.
There were so many things wrong with this.
Last night, I was at Unf's engagement party (woo Unf! woo party!), and Unf introduced me to his father-in-law-to-be, whose first (loudly spoken) line was, "[Ogged's real name], ah, so you're the other half of Unfogged."
Who in his right mind would tell his FILTB about this site?
Thanks for blowing our cover in front of a dozen people, Mr. Unf's FILTB.
What's this "other half" business? You mean the posting half? Yes, that's me. I really need to rename this site.
Also notable: One of the other attendees had gone to high school with us, and I hadn't seen her since. But back in high school, my debate partner dated her, and I dated her debate partner. So there were many nights of joint canoodling in hotel rooms on debate trips (separately joint; we were innocents). Somehow the familiarity of those times survives the years; we chatted amiably for hours, noting that we'd both lost touch with the folks we'd been dating.
D and I have an acquaintance who trekked across Asia in pre-9/11 days. That fact is tangentially related to these questions: which of the following behaviors indicates a greater degree of cheapness, and have you known anyone more cheap?
1. Sometimes takes dates to Whole Foods, so that dinner can be free samples.
2. Got into a heated argument with a ticket-taker on a train in Pakistan because he thought he was being charged an exorbitant fee for the ticket. Concluded argument by refusing to pay and jumping off moving train. Price of ticket: $2.00.
A menu item at a quite nice breakfast place: three eggs, three pancakes, seven slices of bacon. Mmmm.
Mom, not so enthused: [tries a bit of bacon, gags] "Is that pig?! It's pig! I can taste it. Can't you taste that?" "Mom, I like it." "Oh."