libertango: (Default)
So tonight we were watching Glee S1:D3 from Netflix, and I made an observation about how unlikely this was from choral standards -- but, hey, what do I know? I only sang in grade school, high school, and college choirs for 12 years.

And [livejournal.com profile] akirlu said, "I wonder when the shovel will break?"

We both realized there was a lexicon entry -- because she got that phrase from me.

*^*^*

There I am living in Harwood Court, a dorm on the Pomona College campus.

I'm talking to Doug Shepherd, class of '84, and some other folks, and I forget just how this came up, but he says, "Night of the Comet is so bad, the shovel breaks before the opening titles."

"Oh?" I say. "What do you mean by that, Doug?"

"Well... All fiction is basically the art of throwing shit in your general direction. When you're in the hands of a master -- Tolstoy, say, or Hitchcock -- they shovel the shit out of the way so quickly and so cleanly you don't ever really notice it. Their shovels are made out of a mix of titanium and carbon fiber. But let's face it -- not everyone is that good. So, sooner or later, the shit is just so heavy their shovel breaks. Then the shit the story depends on starts piling up. I mean, it becomes a big pile. Then it starts stinking. You just can't pay any attention to the story, because this steaming pile of shit is between the story and you, and it keeps growing, because their shovel has broken, and they just can't get it out of the way."

"Night of the Comet starts with this text prologue on the screen. And this text is so lame, and so ridiculous... I'm telling you, the shovel breaks before the titles show up."

"So it becomes something of a measure of quality, y'know? Just when does the shovel break in a story?"

*^*^*

This was the thing Doug told me I remember best, and have found most useful in the passage of time. And now I pass it on to you.

*^*^*

EDITED TO ADD: I was wrong. It's not a crawl of text. Such is the world in which we live I was able to download the movie to look, check, and verify. It opens with John Carpenter-ish synth riffs, and deep, dark narration by Michael Hanks. It was tough to punctuate the following, because many times you'd think a sentence was over, and then it would go on.

Since before recorded time it had swung through the universe in an elliptical orbit so large that its very existence remained a secret of time and space. But now, in the last few years of the twentieth century, the visitor was returning.

Animated comet goes whooshing by.
Title: NIGHT OF THE COMET

The citizens of Earth would get an extra Christmas present this year, as their planet orbited through the tail of the comet. Scientists predicted a light show of stellar proportions - something not seen on Earth for 65 million years. Indeed, not since the time that the dinosaurs disappeared virtually overnight.

There were a few who saw this as more than just a coincidence. But, most didn't.
libertango: (Default)
From this CDW commercial, which first ran in the late 1990s when I was at Barbeques Galore, and ordering a lot from CDW. They actually sent me a CD-ROM with this as an .AVI file.

"I'm taking User Error to a whole new level!"

*^*^*^*

libertango: (Default)
Back on [livejournal.com profile] akirlu's TAFF trip in 1998, Rob Hansen was kind enough to show us a tape of Bill Bailey he'd taken off the TV. The other day, I finally found out the name of the show -- Is It Bill Bailey?, which was a one-series, six episode thing on BBC that year. It's never been released on DVD or rebroadcast.

You can, though, find it in the torrents. If one were to look. I mean, hypothetically.

So, from Episode 5, at about 5:52 in, during a monologue I'll title, "Anyone Can Be a Philosopher," here's a gig that stuck in our brains:

*^*^*

I mean, you compare that, say, with Wittgenstein's theory of solipsism -- I mean, that is totally useless. And that's a belcher, as well. According to that, only I exist. Everything else exists purely in my imagination. I go out the room, you cease to exist. You go out the room, I cease to exist.

Now in reality, he meant it metaphorically, but hypothetically, let's take him literally.

I don't actually think he had any mates.

No -- I think what was happening was, they were going out the room, and for them, he did actually cease to exist.

They're thinkin', "Let's go down the pub. This guy's a nutter."

*^*^*

Thank you, internets!
libertango: (Default)
An example is coming up in the next post.

It's a shortened version of the title of Harlan Ellison's introduction to his story collection Strange Wine, "Revealed at Last! What Killed the Dinosaurs! And You Don't Look So Terrific Yourself."
libertango: (Default)
An acronym: Yet Another Movie About Dorks.

*^*^*

Originally coined when we were living in Orange County, and saw the trailer for A Night at the Roxbury one too many times. That would it put it at 1998, when this genre was just beginning to become the industry-sucking black hole it's since become. (And, not coincidentally, an early movie starring role for Will Ferrell, who could well be called the King of YAMAD. Though it's a tight race with George W. Bush.)

The appeal of YAMAD to the bigger marketplace is fairly simple: No matter how dorky, how stupid, how unfunny, how clutzy you may be, there is always someone more dorky, more stupid, more unfunny, and more clutzy than you... And, hey, isn't it laff riot to point and giggle at them?

Steve Martin and Dan Aykroyd as "Two Wild and Crazy Guys!" could be considered the ur-text of YAMAD, and you may notice that many Saturday Night Live alumni recycle the basic riff and are involved in the genre.

Judd Apatow today makes YAMAD, and the whole Ferrell/Ben Stiller/Owen Wilson combine may be considered the core of the group. This would make Zoolander the archetypal example, despite Roxbury giving name to the genre. ("Zoolander: The Citizen Kane of YAMAD")

Kevin Smith is an odd counter example, because while his movies usually involve YAMAD elements, they're frequently too funny and too original to really count. YAMAD done right, perhaps?

Interestingly, Urban Dictionary has a definition for "yamad" -- that at first glance has nothing to do with our use of the term but seems strangely appropriate...
libertango: (Default)
Dick Cavett posted some memories of Richard Burton on his New York Times blog. I just submitted the following comment:

*^*^*

I'm a bit disappointed, Mr. Cavett, that you don't mention the following story. Then again, my memory is fallible, so perhaps it didn't happen quite this way.

I remember you interviewing Mr. Burton, and the topic turned to his friendship with Humphrey Bogart when Burton first came to Hollywood in the 1950s. The two became quite close friends, he said.

He mentioned how the two of them were in a nightclub, and someone known for cheating on his wife began dancing with some lovely. Bogart turned to Burton and said, "Richard?"

"Yes, Humphrey?"

...at which point you interrupted Burton, quite surprised, and asked, "You called him 'Humphrey'? Not, 'Bogey'?"

Burton looked at you, did a bit of a slow burn, and said, "I call all my friends by their full first names. Which is why I call you, 'Dick.'"

A bit of stunned silence by the audience, followed by uproarious laughter.

Burton then continued how Bogart growled, "Let's just stare at him."

Burton and Bogart did so, and the lothario (A studio exec? Hollywood's dirty secret is that studio execs are far more fragile and childish than any actor) slowly curdled and wilted.

*^*^*

EDITED TO ADD: That NYT post has a 29 min full interview embedded in it. It's apparently one of four Cavett did with Burton. But it doesn't seem to be loading for me, so I suspect it's getting hammered/slashdotted, which means I can't watch and see if the above exchange (or something like it) is in it.

But, tellingly, Cavett writes this:

"I knew Burton still might opt for (dismissing the studio audience), although in somewhat classier terms; probably whispering something more like, “Richard Cavett, I’m experiencing a modicum of discomfort. Let us enforce our gentlemen’s agreement and politely dispense with the assembled onlookers.”

Note how Cavett imagines Burton calling him, "Richard." Whether Burton did call him that on a regular friendly basis, I just don't have enough information about.
libertango: (Default)

Gruff and lovable
Originally uploaded by halobrien
This is a rare one-panel by G.B. Trudeau. It appears in Trout Fishing In the Reflecting Pool. It's a depiction of Senator Sam Ervin of North Carolina saying:

"Ah am not bein' harassin' toward the witness, Senator Gurney. Ah am bein' gruff and lovable and yew know it!"

Speaking as a gruff and lovable guy, I use this a fair bit.
libertango: (Default)

nerve center
Originally uploaded by halobrien
"You got a phone and everything."

I've been working on cleaning up and arranging my downstairs office -- unpacking books, putting up a reading lamp, that sort of thing. With the new VoIP and landline, that also means an overhaul of the phone system.

Hence, a reminder of this strip from Doonesbury, circa 1979 (Uncle Duke is about to go to Iran).
libertango: (Default)
"This can only end in tears."

-- spoken by Bartok the bat, voiced by Hank Azaria, in Anastasia, written by Susan Gauthier, Bruce Graham, Bob Tzudiker & Noni White

*^*^*

Not unlike Harvey Smith's (Zadie's dad, previous entry) "No good can come of this," a forewarning about the vagaries of the world, but spoken in Azaria's slavic accent.

Alas, no YouTube clip of the line I can readily find.
libertango: (Default)
Derived from the radio announcer of the Hindenburg fire: "Oh, the humanity!"

Used to commiserate with our cat Tinka as she tries to get more tuna.
libertango: (Default)
The year: 1991

The setting: Pasadena's Hastings Ranch theaters

The film: Hamlet, directed by Zeffirelli, starring Gibson, Close, Bates, Scofield, Holm, Bonham Carter, etc.

So, we get to the nunnery scene. Ophelia's nearly in tears.

One grey-haired Pasadena matron turns to her companion, and says, just above a stage whisper:

"He's going to drive that poor girl crazy!"

{blink}

Never seen this story before, have you, ma'am?
libertango: (Default)
For lexicon purposes, used to flag a sea of multiple, almost indistinguishable choices: "Who are all the candidates for Congress again?" "It was so dark. There were so many."

*^*^*

This was originally meant to have a somewhat insouciant tone to it. As if one was reporting on one's attendance at an orgy: "Who did you sleep with last night?" "It was so dark. There were so many."

It originally came from [livejournal.com profile] akirlu in our household, and as such, I thought it was a reference to Cynthia Heimel, or Anais Nin, or someone like that. But no, after fruitlessly searching about on my own, when asked Ulrika tells me it was from the APA Myriad -- probably Daniel Taylor. Now, where he may have gotten it from...
libertango: (Default)
"Look! A leaf!"

For lexicon purposes, usually an illustration of how distractible one may get: "Have you done the dishes yet?" "Look! A leaf!" -- meaning, "I meant to, but I got distracted!"

*^*^*

I remember this as coming from the OC Weekly, in a piece about the struggles to get ferrets to be legal pets in the state of California. I can find this article in their archives, but the phrase only occurs in the headline, not the body of the text. I remember a longer item.

Searching about, I can find this archive of the "Internet Oracle" that comes more closely to what I remember. I've edited it down to be ferret-specific:

What does a ferret think about its owner?

Ferret: The ferret will see you and the couch--- and there's food in the dish! and I gotta go to the bath--- Woah! Look! A leaf! Holy smokes, what is that light on the floor? Man, this sofa looks very tasty! *bonk* OUCH! Why can't I go through this spot? I can see right through it! Look! Another leaf!
libertango: (Default)
"It was all perfectly fine until you came along!"

As usual, a mild misquote on my part.

This comes from an episode of the Goon Show, "The Histories of Pliny the Elder". Specifically, a slow-building gag about rowing as slaves on board a Roman galley:

*^*^*

Orchestra, Grams: Seagoing music; boat-bound voices in background; ship sounds
Greenslade: And so, some months later, a Roman slave galley drew nigh to Ostia.
Slave Driver: In, out... in, out...
Eccles: Make up your mind...
Bluebottle: Have you ever rowed a gallery before, Ecclus?
Eccles: Is that what we're doing?
Bluebottle: Yes.
Eccles: No, I've never done this before.
Slave Driver: Faster, you dogs!
Bluebottle: He wants us dogs to go faster.
Slave Driver: Silence, you scum!
Eccles: He wants us scum to go silent...
Slave Driver: Or do you want a kiss of the lash?
Bluebottle: No, thanks, I just had some cocoa.
Eccles: Oh, look, they're bringing a new slave from the reserve.
Bluebottle: Goody!
Seagoon: Let me go, you devil, how dare you? Take your hands off me! Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. How dare you chain me to this oar? I shall write to the Times about this! In print!
Flowerdew: Shut up, you! It was perfectly quiet until you came along! You're not the only man chained to the oars, you know...

-- "The Histories of Pliny the Elder," The Goon Show, Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens

*^*^*

"I shall write to the Times about this!" also tends to be used as lexicon from this source
libertango: (Default)
Usually a mild misquote by me. Here's the original source:

When I was twenty-six, my first novel, The Temple of Gold, was published by Alfred A Knopf. (Which is now part of Random House which is now part of R.C.A. which is just part of what's wrong with publishing in America today which is not part of this story.)

-- William Goldman, The Princess Bride

*^*^*

Time marches on. Knopf is still owned by Random House, but they're now owned by Bertelsmann. Which is just part of what's wrong with publishing in America today which is not part of this story.
libertango: (Default)
For lexicon purposes, usually as an ironic marker: "Yes, the cats are nice, but under The New Cruelty, I'm the one to clean out the cat boxes."

The full dialogue goes like this:

Mr. Perdue, Maitre D' at L'Idiot: Your usual table, Mr. Christopher?
Carlo Christopher: No, I'd like a good one this time.
Mr. Perdue, Maitre D' at L'Idiot: I'm sorry, that is impossible.
Carlo Christopher: Part of The New Cruelty?
Mr. Perdue, Maitre D' at L'Idiot: I'm afraid so.
-- Steve Martin, L.A. Story
libertango: (Default)
From the official Casey Stengel site:

"You look up and down the bench and you have to say to yourself, 'Can't anybody here play this game?' There comes a time in every man's life and I've had plenty of them."

*^*^*

'Can't anybody here play this game?' -- Usually used by me in frustration. Especially in the last eight years where, even if you agree with the Bushies ideologically (or McCain/Palin just now), you look at their hapless actions and...

Jeez Oh

Oct. 24th, 2008 01:19 am
libertango: (Default)
For lexicon purposes:

"Jeez Oh." -- Billy Connolly

Said with as close to a Glaswegian accent as one can muster. An expression of astonishment.

*^*^*

In this instance, what prompts that is reading this backgrounder on Sarah Palin from the New York Times.

Ms. Palin's maiden name was Heath.

They quote her older sister, Heather Bruce.

Which means that sister's birth name was, god help us, Heather Heath.

{blink}

Jeez Oh.
libertango: (Default)
So, if you haven't figured out what the tag "lexicon" stands for, it's for entries that explain a quote that has seeped into our speech as conversation or a catch phrase. (And no, that's not a royal or editorial "our," I'm talking about [livejournal.com profile] akirlu and me as a couple.)

Today's example:

(spoken slowly, in a German accent): "Damn... Damn... Damn..." -- Richard Curtis and Ben Elton, Blackadder's Christmas Carol

Here's the full scene this comes from:

*^*^*

[Scene changes to a room in Buckingham Palace. Queen Victoria enters, followed by the butler, and approaches Prince Albert, who is wrapping something. He speaks with a ridiculous accent.]

Victoria: [knowing that Albert's wrapping a present for her]

What are you doing, Albert?

Albert: [hiding something] Nothing...

Victoria: Oh yes you are, you naughty German sausage! [sits]

Tell me what you're doing...

Albert: I just said; I'm not doing anything! Really, woman -- when you're busy ruling India, you don't tell me what you are doing... So why should I tell you what I am doing when I am busy wrapping up this cushion for your surprise Christmas present? Damn... Now I have only two surprise presents for you...

Victoria: Oh, dear Alby, don't worry -- I don't mind.

Albert: I do... I love surprises. [Hugs her, resting his head against her bosom; she enjoys it very much] Christmas without surprises is like the nuts without a nutcrack. [has a realisation, rushes to the tree, and begins unwrapping something] ...which is why I have bought you this surprise nutcracker-- Damn... Damn...

Victoria: Oh, darling Bobo, don't worry. [stands] Besides, haven't you forgotten something?

Albert: What?

Victoria: Our traditional Christmas adventure!

Albert: Oh, yes! Of course! The traditional Christmas adventure! Huzzah!!!...what traditional Christmas adventure?

Victoria: You silly soldier! You know: when we disguise ourselves as common folk and go out amongst the people to reward the virtuous and the good...

Albert: Oh, yes! Of course! Dummkopf! [stands] How could I forget? [he shouts something in German] [He reaches down, to pick up something and starts unwrapping it.] For it is for precisely such an outing as this that I have bought you my finest surprise present: this muff which I am going to give you tomorrow-- Damn... Damn... Damn... [As he falls to his knees, Victoria pushes his face into her bosom.]

*^*^*

This came up today because I decided not to keep as a secret the fact I'd gone and ordered a number of DVDs -- the first season of Chuck, ditto Pushing Daisies, ditto Manchild. The last Ulrika won't care too much about, but the first two she will. I'd originally intended it as a surprise, but...

Damn... Damn... Damn...
libertango: (Default)
BRONTË: Well, you're so right-wing about everything.

GEORGES: I'm not wing. You are the one with the wing.

-- Peter Weir, Green Card

*^*^*

As a piece of lexicon, usually mildly misquoted as, "Perhaps it is you who are wing."

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