Showing posts with label what. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what. Show all posts

4.11.2012

Unfinished vs. Undone

Momentum mustn't waver at this most crucial of junctures.

You see, it is too typical that, when I write about a niggling bit How Things Sometimes Are, I get sidetracked. By children, by circumstance, by this-or-that that I've forgotten to do. But not this time. No, sir and/or madam.

The secret to avoiding this, I surmise, is brevity. Starting with the premise: it is patently uncool for shows/movies/plays/productions that are set in a specific time to use music (for "atmosphere" or "legitimacy") that had not been written or released at the time that HAS NOT [expletive] BEEN WRITTEN OR RELEASED YET. This sickens me. It punctures suspension of disbelief, and constitutes an utter ignorance for what anything was ever actually like (inasmuch as that can be depicted anyway).

I think about the if-you-must climactic scene of 1987's "period piece" Dirty Dancing, set (as we all-too-likely know) in 1963. Johnny and Baby (Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey, respectively, although it'd be great if they switched) perform a dance for somebodies (I forget whom).

Anyway, the chosen soundtrack? A duet of Bill Medley (once, but never truly, a "righteous brother") and Jennifer Warnes (whom didst Jennifer warne?) that was written and recorded in 1987, and sounds like it. Granted, the movie is full of stupid selections (e.g., 1964's "You Don't Own Me" performed by The Blow Monkeys), but that's neither here nor there. To end the movie with a non-anthem from Reagan's second term is an abomination.


Agggh. Children, whom are lovely, need my attention. More very soon.

1.10.2012

Direct Me to the Nearest Surgeon

Hi, Everybody--

As a person that can no longer umbrella his mistakes with newness, I humbly cry uncle toward Blogger and its unique capacity cooperate as it sees fit, which is increasingly seldom. I would swear at it, but to pillory a program is one step too abstract--the computer is behaving, and my family is blurrily zipping about, and I don't wish for any of these real-life subjects/objects to think themselves, even for a second, to be recipients of my contumely.

I am working at switching this blog over to the official Good Ideas on Paper website, which will also feature a pantload of professional information and the flagrant suchlike as well as the enigmatic furthermore. Thanks infinity to Rob McClellan for having bestowed the domain name unto me as a holiday gift.

So, please pardon my roiling. Thank you.