Last night I read Stephen Potter's Anti-Woo: Gambits for Non-Lovers. I'd read bits a while ago and last night I picked it up again. Because I've decided to pretend that this is all planned. I'd really like to quote a funny selection from it now, but I can't figure out where the hell the book actually is. That's a bit troubling, since it's got to be in my apartment somewhere. I was just reading it yesterday. Um. I'm going to assume it'll turn up when I clean this weekend. I probably hid it under some other books.

While amusing, it was focused a little too much on how to identify and discourage unpleasant suitors. I was hoping for something that assumed you wanted to discourage everyone. Because I'm good at that, and I could use the validation. So today I reread Florence King's With Charity Toward None: A Fond Look at Misanthropy. I haven't read it in a while, so I'd forgotten that King recommends a lot of books that I should read. I'll go update my ever-growing to-read list in a few minutes. I got a big book o' Ambrose Bierce when I was in college because there's a chapter on him in this book, and he didn't disappoint.

But back to King, because I've a project in mind.

Misanthropes have some admirable if paradoxical virtues. It is no exaggeration to say that we are among the nicest people you are likely to meet. Because good manners build sturdy walls, our distaste for intimacy makes us exceedingly cordial 'ships that pass in the night.' As long as you remain a stranger we will be your friend forever.

We are law-abiding to the point of punctiliousness, not because we are plaster saints, but because criminals must deal with people constantly. [...] We do not take hostages because once you have them you can't let them out of your sight. We do not commit serial murder because we recoil in moral revulsion at the very word: serial. As for child molestation, in order to molest a child you must first be in the same room with a child, and I don't know how perverts stand it.

Damn right. This weekend, I think I'll reread some Mark Twain and Joe Queenan. And maybe dig up some of the books I just added to my list. After that, I'll try to put together some tips on How To Be a Misanthrope. I think this is a timely idea, because the internet is so successful largely because people it makes it easier for people to do their thing without having to actually deal with each other. Plus it will give me something to go on about at great length.

I wish I still had my copy of How to be a Grouch by Oscar the Grouch.

I love Chris Elliot. And it amuses me to imagine people tuning in to The Late Show tonight just to see Eliza Dushku and being bewildered by his segment.

Random nostalgia trip: I started watching Letterman on NBC around 1984 (I can date it because I remember Elliot's "The Paranoid Guy" getting hauled away by stormtroopers a lot.) And there was "The Guy Under the Seats." And "The Fugitive Guy!" I would love a DVD collecting all that stuff. Especially "The Fugitive Guy." With the thrilling climactic episode where he found out the One-Legged Man's true identity!

Oh, but back to Letterman -- I got a TV of my very own in... um, 7th grade? Around then. And that led to me staying up till all hours watching TV with the sound turned down to the minimum so my parents wouldn't know I was up. I distinctly remember the first time I saw Late Night, just because I didn't know what the hell it was. This guy came out, and there was a little 6-foot ski-slope behind him, and he explained that later on he was going to learn to ski. I assume this was when he was doing stunts like the velcro-board and the Alka-Seltzer suit and so on. So I was confused, and then I went back to watching M*A*S*H reruns or something, so I don't know what happened. Isn't that a great story? I just mention it because I never did see what happened with the skiing in a rerun or anything, and I'm kind of curious about it.

One more thought about tonight's Letterman: It's really weird to see Eliza Dushku being perky instead of a badass.

I actually abstained from a trip to the comic shop. For once.

Over the weekend we tried to watch Texas Rangers, but it was so bad that Zachary threatened to go home. He's got a low tolerance or something. Maybe next weekend.

I just caught the last half of The Hudsucker Proxy (which should not be confused with The Shawshank Redemption, and yet I keep doing just that) on TCM. I didn't realize Sam Raimi had a writing credit on that. I also didn't realize that Tim Robbin's bodyguardish guy is Drop Johnson in Miller's Crossing. And in both movies, he's reading comics. There's probably some deep significance to that. Er, yeah. Then I was curious if he was in all of the Coen's movies as some guy reading the funnies, but the answer to that appears to be no.

They also showed an ad featuring a clip from Network. That's a very good movie, you know. You should see it. I thought it would be dated, but it's probably funnier now. But then, just as I was feeling smitten with TCM, they showed an ad for a Joan Crawford film fest with narration that goes something like, "Every gay man loves her, every straight man fears her." All of them? Really? What about bisexuals; how do they feel? Oh, and now I've just noticed that this Friday they're showing The Elephant Man followed by Freaks, so I'm back to love again. I run hot and cold that way.

In a fit of narcissism I dug out that paper on the Romantics that I was talking about, and the full sentence is actually, "As with the prior Werther fervor, the personal passions of the poets inspired an almost phenomenally fanatic following in their readers." I'm not even sure that makes sense, but boy do I love alliteration! I can't believe the teacher didn't say anything about that sentence. But he did give me an A, which is all that really matters.

First things first: there's a Simpsons/Futurama crossover. Not on TV. It's from Bongo Comics, and titled Infinitely Secret Crossover Crisis. I just barely know what that's a parody of, but I'm amused anyway. Anyway, it came out Thursday, and I thought I'd spread the word. Does this mean I have to go to the comic shop again? Um. Probably. There's also a Lucifer OGN I need. I'm so bad.

So what with rereading Lemony Snicket, I had to look at The Hostile Hospital again, and that made me want to reread Billy Bumbry's Year. Maybe this whole juvenile lit thing is because of all the back-to-school ads. Hey, I just checked, and right now this site is the very first one that comes up on Google for "Billy Bumbry's Year." That'll bring in a flood of hits. Okay. I know I'm the only person in the world who cares about this book. Fine. You Philistines. You're just jealous because it's almost impossible to find a copy. Nyah.

Um. Where was I? Well, I thought I'd go on about it a little more since I didn't say much last time. And because I wanted to quote this bit, which made me laugh. This is Billy, writing in his diary after his girlfriend breaks up with him:

She said I was a bore. How could she say that? Every time we were together it was like magic. She won most of the games we played, like cut-the-deck, or backgammon, or spot-the-VW, or stone-scissors-paper. And those long, romantic walks along the highway, looking for dead animals and burying them. How can she forget what happened on those walks when neither of us had to say anything for maybe an hour at a time?

Heh. It's all so dumb, but funny. That passage reminds me that the other thing I've been vaguely in the mood to reread is The Sufferings of Young Werther. I got it as a tortured teen because that's the sort of thing one does, but in the years since then, I've noticed that if I'm in a good mood, it reads a lot differently. If you're gloomy, it's about this tragic Love That Cannot Be. If you're cheerful, it's about what a dope Werther is for not getting over it. But I don't think it's a good idea for me to read it right now, because it's too hot for me to maintain a good mood.

I'll always be fond of it, though, because late one night I was writing a paper on the Romantics, and used the phrase, "As with the prior Werther fervor..." and then laughed for about five minutes. Say it aloud! Werther fervor! Ha. Okay, I was really tired at the time. But it was a good paper. I keep being tempted to put it up, but I'm not sure if it's all that interesting to anyone besides English majors who are looking for a thesis to download, and why should I help them? They'd probably have to take out all the jokes, though, because I suspect most profs wouldn't put up with that nonsense.

Yes, I'm rambling a lot. It's Friday.

Almost forgot: Did you know there's a nifty A Series of Unfortunate Events website where you can play really dumb games? Wimblepong is my favorite. I'm doing pretty well, too. Yeah, I'm probably competing with 12 year old kids. Shut up!

I did get to A Dalliance with the Damned last night. Reading all 3 TPBs in a row left me quite impressed, and the third one is particularly fun. Mostly because Lucifer is working on his own Creation, complete with Adam & Eve prototypes. But an angel sneaks in, disguised as a snake. Heh. Oh, and Brute & Glob from Sandman make a brief appearance, with the noteworthy line "I've got a straw and I'm just pissed off enough to use it." There are an awful lot of good quotes in there, but that has to be the winner.

And at the end, Lucifer seems to be gearing up for another confrontation with you-know-who. So I may have some difficulty waiting for the next TPB. Rats.

The point is, it's very good. If you liked Sandman, you might want to check this out. Not just because it's a spin-off; it has a very similar feel, minus Gaiman's tendency to show off with literary references. (I'm not disparaging that tendency; I am in fact quite a fan of it.)

I mostly behaved myself at the comic shop. I got Mike Carey's Lucifer: A Dalliance with the Damned and Roman Dirge's The Monsters in My Tummy, because he's so funny. I started the Lucifer book and then decided that I needed to reread the first two books because there really is a lot of continuity and I can't remember who's who. So I'm still in progress with that. But isn't this a great opening?: "There is a garden in the East, serene and perfect, but a Seraph guards it with a flaming sword. For God has seven thousand names, and one of them is Bastard." Rereading the first book I was again pleased by how Lucifer is so casual about being an asshole. It's sort of got the same feel as Sandman, where the title character isn't exactly helpful to most of the people he encounters. I like that.

Oh, and I got some Buffy & Angel stuff for prize-packs. Which led to a bit of a chat with the clerk. It was one of the clerks I like -- actually I like most of them. There's one guy who gives me slight creeps, and a girl who bugs me. I don't know why; just something about her attitude. Actually, now that I think about it, the three guys there I like all have goatees, so it might just be that I have a facial hair bias. I'm comfortable with that. Anyway, the clerk and I talked about Buffy and Angel a little. He agreed that Angel was the better of the two shows last year, so I feel validated. And he wasn't too enthused about Firefly, but planned to give it a try. Oh, he also agreed that the "western in space" concept was very tired. He said he was hoping that Whedon was saying that as a joke, and I didn't have the heart to discourage that idea.

Since I'd been so well-behaved there, I went to the movie/music store, too. I got Carbon Leaf's Echo Echo. They're a local band and have been getting some airplay. Pseudo-Irish bar band, but I like that kind of thing. I was thinking about getting the album, and what decided me was hearing the lyrics "I'd like to teach me to sing in perfect harmony, and I'd like to change the world. It's easier than changing me."

I also got Leonard Cohen's Ten New Songs, which isn't the cleverest album name. But it's actually helpful, since a lot of his albums include previously released material. I haven't listened to that yet.

Here's the report for this weekend's film fest. First I watched Cannibal! The Musical. Rented solely because I'd heard that the commentary track was entertaining, since Parker, Stone, and a few of their friends get very drunk in the course of the movie. It was worth renting. I guess. I enjoyed it, but thanks to Netflix I had to make almost no effort to see it. I wouldn't seek it out or anything. And I'd just go straight to the commentary if I were you. There were a few bits where I went back and listened to the actual scenes, but I don't feel like I missed out on anything fabulous by skipping 90% of them. A couple of the songs are disturbingly catchy, though. In a South Park way.

There are lots of Troma extras on the DVD, which I enjoyed the hell out of.

And then later this evening I checked out Jacob's Ladder. This was part of why I'd wanted to see An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, in fact. Since I'd seen the movie a couple of times, I again went straight to the commentary, which is interesting mostly because you get a sense of how much Adrian Lyne added to it. And he's not a director I'm particularly enthralled with, but he seems to have really improved on the script in this case. There are a couple of deleted scenes, and Lynne explains why he left them out, and I think he was right to do so. There's one scene that the writer complains about omitting, and it's a nice scene, but the ending is really cheesy, and the writer is crazy to think it was necessary. So there.

There are two things I really like about Jacob's Ladder. One is the creepiness. Lynne talks about how he wanted to leave things up to the viewer's imagination, and I think he's absolutely right about how that makes things much more disturbing. The second thing I like is that instead of going with the shocking-twist ending, they have characters throughout the movie telling Jacob, "You're dead. Dead, dead, dead. You. Dead. Get used to it." I have nothing against twist endings, but I think this shows that it's not always necessary. Everything is still disturbing and sad, even when you understand it.

Granted, the first time I saw it, I didn't entirely understand it, but I just mean that it's not meant to be something you'd never guess. If that makes sense. The DVD has a trailer and TV commercial, and they basically tell you the whole story. I just respect the fact that instead of trying to mislead the audience, they're spelling it out over and over while the main character refuses to get it. Because that's the point of the story -- he won't let go.

Oh, one of the deleted scenes is of Jacob getting "cured," and while again I think Lyne was right to drop it (he basically said it was one layer too many), it's got a shot that is way disturbing. It's just this demonic eye looking down through the ceiling, and it really gave me the creeps. I remember that when I saw the movie in the theater, the scene that bothered me the most was when Robbins is in the tub and they're throwing ice on him to lower his fever. Not that there aren't other parts that are disturbing, because there are. But that one sticks out, I think because whatever maternal instincts I have are limited to people who are sick or very, very tired. So when you have a character who's sick and exhausted and in pain, it's tugging on every emotion I have. Anyway, it's a good movie to see if you're in the mood to be disturbed.

Oh, earlier this week I reread the two Planetary collections. I guess Ellis is gearing up again, so someday there'll be a third. Despite not knowing half of the references, I really enjoy it. And not knowing half the references gives me things to do research on, so that might actually be a plus. I'm also giddy as a schoolgirl about the Planetary/Batman crossover that Ellis wrote, solely because he posted a page or two from the script on his site and it made me laugh a helluva lot.

Tomorrow I will be headed to the comic shop because I must buy presents for the winners of a contest I had in the TWoP forums. And I fear that I just might buy one or two things for myself. Wouldn't that just be awful?

I meant to tell you that earlier this week, Daria saved my life. That might be a teeny exaggeration. But I remembered (for a change) that it was on, and got up to head for the living room. And then stopped because at just that moment, a centipede was on the hallway floor.

They aren't so bad on the floor. Their legs don't stand out on a carpet the way they do on the wall so they don't look giant and I can't see all their legs waving and all that. So I got a shoe and smooshed it. And then I watched Daria. Yay. But see, if it hadn't been for Daria, I wouldn't have been in the hallway then, and I wouldn't have seen the centipede, and then it would have attacked me in the shower like a Kafka version of Psycho or something.

Well, it was headed in the direction of the bathroom. It was clearly up to no good.

Moving on... it's been an annoying couple of days and I didn't get enough sleep. I cope with being tired up to a certain point, and after that I lose any emotional stability I might normally have. It's not fun. But now I've had a nap. I'm still tired enough to go to bed soon but I no longer want put Disintegration on repeat, so that's a good sign. One of the many dumb things that I did instead of sleeping last night was reread Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Biography. My mom had borrowed it, so I just got it back. I hadn't read the disclaimer at the front last time: hee.

And I looked through the index a little more carefully -- I would like to take this opportunity to say I am awful at anagrams. And also Scrabble. Anything like that. I think it's because I see words as units, not as collections of letters, so when you mix up the letters I can't sort them out. Or something. Anyway, most of the ones in Snicket are simple enough even for me, but I confess that I don't know who "Linda Rhaldeen" and "Shirley T. Sinoit-Pecér" are. Little help?

Oh, I've also been reading Skin Flutes & Velvet Gloves, by Dr. Terri Hamilton. You need the "Dr." in there because otherwise a collection of wacky facts about sexual organs & associated trivia might seem prurient. It's cute. There's biological information, and myths & symbols of different cultures, and lists of slang terms, and statistics, and quotes. I wish it had an index, but it's fun to flip through it and read random selections. Well, except the last few chapters, which make me wince a lot. Ouch.

I kinda listened to Peter Bogdanovich's commentary for Kane yesterday. And then I fell asleep. I was tired; I don't think he's entirely to blame. He was repeating a lot of things that Ebert said, and he wasn't quite as insightful -- at least up till the part I fell asleep. He might get quite profound after that. I was awfully tired, is all.

And as planned, the second disk arrived today. It's got "The Battle For Citizen Kane" and not much else. I was kind of disappointed by it, actually. The slant was that Kane ruined Welles' career by antagonizing Hearst, and that isn't untrue but it was so melodramatic about it. I guess it was so slanted that it made me want to view things in the opposite light -- which is that this 25 year old kid made what is widely considered to be the best motion picture ever, and it was his first film. It's a shame that he never reached the same heights afterwards, but surely it shouldn't be treated as the tragedy they make it out to be that he "only" did one piece of work that changed the medium. I'm sure Welles was an egomaniac, and incredibly hard to deal with, and a genius all the same, and they seem so focused on the first two facts that it seems as if they're trying to undercut the third.

It's sort of like something my mom and I were talking about (regarding Clint Eastwood, actually) -- if the guy's a jerk privately, that only matters if I have to deal with him. Since I don't, it's interesting to know, but it doesn't lessen the work he does. Not that Eastwood is on the same level as Welles is, but it still applies.

There was some interesting stuff in the "Battle" piece -- mostly about Welles' early career with the Mercury Theater, and his production of "Macbeth" in Harlem, and "The War of the Worlds" broadcast. I liked that part. It was just later they seemed to decide that this was going to be about how Welles destroyed his own career. And he probably did, but it was hammered so relentlessly that I got irritated.

I came very close to buying Tapeheads on DVD earlier. I resisted, because I know I can get it cheaper. And because I'd already caved in about buying the Series of Unfortunate Events T-shirt, and I can only justify so much impulse spending. But it will be mine. Oh yes.

I'd rented the special edition Citizen Kane DVD. It actually arrived a few days ago, but I only got around to it tonight. I've seen the movie quite a few times, so I listened to Roger Ebert's commentary.

I have mixed feeling about Ebert as a critic, which I guess just means that I don't always share his tastes. But he knows his stuff, and his commentary is jam-packed with all kinds of trivia and "how'd they do that" and insights into things you've never noticed, and I really enjoyed it. Since I've seen the movie before, my plan is to look at all the extras and commentary and then watch it again with the benefit of all that I've learned.

But y'know, even with the sound off, I think Orson Welles might have been the most charismatic man ever. Even when Ebert is pointing out things in the background and little details about the shots, it's awfully hard to not just watch Welles. There are times when Ebert is talking as fast as he can, so he can squeeze in all the information he knows about the production, and that's very fun. It's also kind of tiring; I had to take a little break because my brain was full. I'm not complaining, honest; I just needed time to digest.

If I had unlimited time, I think I'd spend a few weeks watching only movies that came before Kane, because so many of the tricks and techniques in it are commonplace now. I think it would be interesting to get a sense of what a revelation it was, how different from what had come before. I can think about it intellectually, but I think it would be neat to actually see the transition.

I knew about some of the effect shots, I mean, some are obvious now -- but some are so seamless that I never would have guessed they were effects. I have to say, that's something I think has been lost with the advent of CGI; we're so used to seeing things that we know are impossible. Hell, movies are sold on the basis that we're going to see things we know aren't real. I have the same reaction to Gone With the Wind, which isn't as good a movie, although it's ever so much better than the book, but anyway... my point is that the effects are supposed to be invisible. And a lot of them still are. The matte shots are noticeable, but I never would have guessed that some of the sets were constructed to be moved during a shot just so that the camera could move a certain way. It's just incredible.

Ebert mentions that Pauline Kael described it as "a shallow masterpiece." And I can go along with that. Shallow isn't a pejorative, necessarily; it's skimming the surface of many lives, and there's no great insight at the end. But it's still a great movie.

Tomorrow I'll probably check out the commentary from Peter Bogdanovich, and if all goes as planned, I'll get the second disk of extras on Saturday. And I'll watch the movie again somewhere in there, but I doubt I'll have much to say about it because there's not a lot to add. Maybe I'll coo over Joseph Cotten a little bit.

Last night and tonight I watched Bob Roberts, which I'd rented. That is, I started it last night and finished it tonight. I haven't seen it since it came out, so I'd forgotten how very funny it was. It goes a little too far in the last quarter, and you start feeling lectured, but I can forgive that just for Alan Rickman.

And hey! Jack Black was the craziest of the crazy skinhead fans! Wow. I didn't even recognize him, because he was younger and a bit thinner and much, much more clean-cut, and then I felt foolish for not recognizing his patented crazy look.

Tonight I checked out the commentary. Commentaries. There are three. One with Tim Robbins, and I think the producer says maybe one or two things throughout. One with Robbins and Gore Vidal. And one with some guys from Counterpunch that's totally irrelevant to the movie. I have a pretty good idea of what they have to say, and so I don't feel compelled to listen to it. Anyway, Tim Robbins seems like a very nice, intelligent guy and all, but lord, he does a dull commentary. He's mostly telling you who the actors are, and pointing out cameos, and describing what's happening on screen, and I started skipping around to the parts where I thought he might have something to say. Occasionally he was interesting, but I'm not convinced it's worth listening to the whole thing to find those moments.

Although I am awfully curious to know if he ever mentions Tapeheads. Because there's a Bob Roberts song in that, so you'd think he could give it a shout-out. He does at least briefly mention Tenacious D, though. That ought to count for something.

Well, I lied a little in the last entry. I bought a couple of other things that I forgot about while listing everything. And the page was close to the size limit, so once I remembered, I'd figured I just save it for August. Now you know the whole truth.

So yeah, I also got Grant Morrison's The Filth #s 1 & 2. And reading it has led me to an important realization: I don't like Morrison. I want to. I really do. That's not exactly true: I liked Arkham Asylum, and Kid Eternity, and The Mystery Play. And I enjoy his demented columns. But The Invisibles never grabbed me, and and The Filth feels like it all over again. So maybe I just don't like his ongoing stories. I dunno.

I didn't hate The Filth; I don't think it's technically bad. I just didn't find it intriguing and the characters didn't grab me and I don't feel any urge to keep reading it.

And I picked up a back issue of Too Much Coffee Man magazine. I should probably just subscribe. It's got footnote humor every month! And this one had a piece about coffee enemas that was very funny.

Moving on, I also got The Simpsons season 2 DVDs. Woo-hoo! That also technically arrived in July -- I think last weekend -- but I've been watching them all week and just finished this afternoon. I think my favorite commentary is when Groening keeps mentioning Futurama, and someone else finally whines, "If you love Futurama so much, why don't you marry it?"

Now I'm listening to Miller's Crossing, because Monty mentioned The Glass Key, and that got me thinking about it again. I know it well enough that I don't really need to watch it, so I'm just listening for my favorite lines. Which are many. I may actually go back and rework the piece I started about it for the site ages ago.