The Friday Article Roundup
Come warm up with some links to great pop culture writing.
Thaw Out These Links About:
Thanks to Miller for contributing this week. As always, please send links to articles throughout the next week to ploughmanplods [at] gmail, post articles from the past week in the comments below for discussion, and Have a Happy Friday!
Familiar face C.M. Crockford writes about the desolate and cold frontiers of the anti-Western:
The characters in these films struggle to survive freezing cold weather and make the correct moral decision (by 19th century standards). But these bleak, subversive winter Westerns, where black humor is always holstered and ready, recognize the malignancy of the American settler/colonial project. They reflect its hostility and loneliness in the cold environments that can always kill off outlaws, saloon owners, and bounty hunters—if they don’t shoot each other first.
Adam Nayman surveys the best shots of 2024 for The Ringer:
Sometimes, though, [Eastwood] asserts his presence in more abstract ways: I submit into evidence this crucial—and spoiler-free!—composition from Juror No. 2, which cannot help but call to mind Eastwood’s bizarre chair-addressing performance at the 2012 Republican National Convention, which had plenty of people writing him off on ideological grounds as well as ageist ones. Leaving aside the fact that the 94-year old Eastwood would seem to have his shit together more than a number of present or future American political figureheads, the focus on an empty chair in a movie deconstructing the challenge (and necessity) of personal accountability demands commentary; not only does it work on multiple levels as a plot point and a personal reckoning, but it also collapses the distance between them. For people who think great directing consists solely of showy camera moves, Eastwood’s plain mise-en-scène can seem drab or underwhelming—a by-product of always shooting quickly, with the finish line in sight. Simplicity isn’t so simple, though, and like the movie it’s attached to, this shot gets more beautiful and stark and troubling the more you turn it over in your mind.
At It’s Nice That, Olivia Hingley has a long talk with Nick Park and the Aardman team as a new Wallace & Gromit adventure arrives:
Despite sticking with age-old analogue techniques, the handmade approach never detracts from the artistry or skill on show – it only enhances it. “When you see the performances up on screen, you see beyond the fingerprints, and I think that speaks volumes for the skill of the animation team,” says Merlin. “I think there’s this psychological thing going on with our audiences (hopefully they won’t be thinking about it when they’re watching it) but they know these characters exist. They’re lit with real light, and they’re photographed with a real camera.” He adds: “there’s a kind of a grounding of the stop motion technique, which people really connect with.” It’s true, it’s the tangible nature that gives the films such weight. While it’s easy to lose yourself in the story, it’s the moments that make you sit back and think – ‘I can’t believe someone did that with their hands.’
Will Tavlin performs the latest dissection of Netflix’s replacement of cinema with content for N+1:
Such slipshod filmmaking works for the streaming model, since audiences at home are often barely paying attention. Several screenwriters who’ve worked for the streamer told me a common note from company executives is “have this character announce what they’re doing so that viewers who have this program on in the background can follow along.” (“We spent a day together,” Lohan tells her lover, James, in Irish Wish. “I admit it was a beautiful day filled with dramatic vistas and romantic rain, but that doesn’t give you the right to question my life choices. Tomorrow I’m marrying Paul Kennedy.” “Fine,” he responds. “That will be the last you see of me because after this job is over I’m off to Bolivia to photograph an endangered tree lizard.”)
And at Filmmaker Magazine Mark Asch sees gamified darkness in the year’s films but a source of hope in one of 2024’s bleakest movies:
The song Schoenbrun opens the film with, “Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl,” was originally recorded by Broken Social Scene, a Toronto collective of indie-club lifers, and eventually reached a wider audience when the album it was from was written up in Pitchfork in 2003; the version in the film is by yeule, the cyber-pop alter ego of a nonbinary Singaporean twentysomething who named themselves after a Final Fantasy character. In its most optimistic reading, the film is a millennial director’s reflection on the oppressive geography and basic-cable media diet that delineated their youth, made with the knowledge of how these restrictions would eventually loosen in time for the zoomers. They would be more at home in the global digital stan armies within which young people share fan art or fanfic for a favorite show, game or foreign pop group, discovering that they’re more themselves talking to people who only know them as the avatar they chose, finding their people and eventually themselves. Given how much of this process now happens on apps, chats and streams, it feels increasingly reductive to call the place where digital life takes place “the internet,” but still, just on the other side of I Saw the TV Glow is the promise, rare in the films of 2024, of a web that connects.
About the writer
C. D. Ploughman
The weary Ploughman is a writer and filmmaker, focusing these days on documentary and educational projects. He obsesses over movies with his very patient wife and children.
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Conversation
What did we watch?
Live Music
I regularly attend a drag show called Q2, which is on every quarter of the year (with extra shows every now and again). Normally I don’t report on it because I’m too fucking drunk (or, later, hungover) to write coherently, but I ran around to get Christmas presents today and forgot to watch Babylon 5, and also I’m much less drunk than normal. I love that you can usually tell who’s going to perform what based on their outfit; one queen played the most cliche song you could play at drag (which I’ve naturally forgotten the name of), and she fucking slayed. My friend had the most imaginative and most technically proficient dance and naturally got few cheers. One person did a parody of Jim Carrey’s Grinch in full makeup, that was fun.
Woooooo live music!!
Hard Times – The titular “hard times” are the Great Depression. Drifter Charles Bronson (age 52) takes to street fighting to make some money, helped by genial but incautious promoter James Coburn and washed up not-a-doctor Strother Martin, while having a low key fling with Jill Ireland (Bronson’s real life wife). Written and directed by Walter Hill, making his first leap from author to auteur, and as first movies go, it’s well put together and reasonably assured. There is only the barest hint of sentiment here, with the fights brutal (if low on blood) and lacking any sort of musical accompaniment, with Coburn’s charm and smile balancing nicely with Bronson’s silence and determination. Believe it or not, this is my first Walter Hill movie. I should see what else he’s done.
Kojak, “Last Rites for a Dead Priest” – Odd title since there is no dead priest. Indeed, there is no living priest, either. It’s heister Jackie Cooper disguised as a priest since no one looks twice at a priest scoping out the scene of the crime ahead of the job. Like any good heist story, the easy part is the crime, the hard part is the getaway. Though since Cooper killed someone before the job to stop any chance he’d talk, any chance we’d root for the crooks is gone fast. On the cop side, lots of solid detective work, plus a surprising number of Yiddishisms from Kojak and Stravos (the cop played by George Salavas). Other guests include a young Stanley Kamel (Monk) and Red Brown (Big McLargehuge himself).
Hell yeah Hard Times! Wrote it up a while back: https://www.the-solute.com/year-of-the-month-miller-on-hard-times/ . The lack of blood is interesting, this isn’t a grindhouse movie, but the violence is still felt. And this lays out Hill’s cinematic and writing style for what is to come, particularly in his interpersonal relationships, it’s a great debut. You can’t go wrong by going in order, The Driver is even more stripped-down but it’s a classic.
Will also recommend Southern Comfort and Streets of Fire, which has a bad lead but an incredible aesthetic, as miller has discussed.
Hell yeah Streets of Fire.
Gonna try to get into the habit of commenting here in addition to on the Dissolve Facebook group.
Edward Scissorhands (1990) – It’s been a hot minute since I approached either Johnny Depp or Tim Burton, mostly spending the past two-ish decades silently judging them for their critical falls from grace and Depp’s horrendous behavior. Both are at or near the top of their games here, but I found myself in love with Dianne Wiest, who provides the beating heart of the film. Where everyone else is interested in using Edward for their own purposes, whether it be hedge trimming or near rape (I’m pretty sure that scene is supposed to be played for laughs, but the whole theater was dead silent because we were watching a near rape), Wiest is only interested in Edward’s well-being. Burton’s style of macabre whimsy (which has become a lifestyle choice for a large amount of millennials), as well as some gentle poking at suburban conformity, help keep the film relevant. There’s a lot to be done with the metaphor of the scissorhands as stand-in for neurodivergence or any other outsider trait you want to throw on it, but the film keeps it tidy with “outsider wants to be normal and society wants to exploit and gawk.” I’m not sure I’m ready to call the film capital-g Great, but I had a good time.
Is there any better demonstration of Burton’s ability to convey his weird worldview to a large audience at this point in his career than launching a movie about a guy with scissors for hands and having everybody almost immediately go “but of course.” Maybe it’s because I was still fairly young when it came out, Edward Scissorhands seemed to make a lot more sense in concept than it does when I try to wrap my head around it now. Also: Vincent Price!
I suspect that Burton’s aesthetics (so much pastel coloring to contrast with the black and white and grey of Edward’s mansion) helped it stand out. The deliberate artificiality of the world helps sell the possibility of a man with scissors for hands. Also: Vincent Price! His voice is so incredible.
Is this his final role? Sweet to see him go out working with someone who idolized him like this (rather than the way of, say, Bella Lugosi as depicted in Ed Wood).
It’s been a while, but I remember Wiest as being genuinely kind but ultimately on the pastel suburban side of things at the end (as opposed to Ryder, who is fully uh Team Edward) — she tries to bring Edward into society and doesn’t condescend to him or treat him poorly, but ultimately that bridge cannot be built. And I think Burton believes that fully, as opposed to a guy like John Waters who is more garish but open in his freakitude. The tragedy of the story and Depp’s great performance makes that hit hard and true here, though.
The film sidelines Wiest during the climax. Her last action in the film is to try to comfort Edward and take him back to the house to get away from the angry mob. Then the police arrive and Edward runs to the mansion. She was never even interested in bringing him into society. The neighborhood gossips saw vague hints of him and stampeded over everything to gawk and exploit. I know that by the climax, it’s not Wiest’s film, having ceded it to Ryder, but I do wish they could have done more with Wiest.
Ah, that sidelining is what I was remembering. And yeah, the boy/girl stuff of Depp/Ryder takes priority but Wiest was there first and more importantly saw the person Edward is first. Not bringing her back in the end feels unbalanced.
I’m definitely one of those millennials as my skull candle and funeral home sign indicates.
McCabe & Mrs. Miller – Conor’s article above put me in the mood to do a rewatch. Maybe no better Western that captures the consistence of the barely-conquered terrain, where mud and wind challenge every movement. And attempting to shape the land, surround it with a church or a whorehouse, signals a turn from endless promise of the frontier into the inevitable conflicts of human nature. Maybe you’ll die in the cold trying to fight it, or maybe you’ll be too zonked on the drug of your choice to care, either outcome looks bleaker than the element-scoured landscape when you arrived.
The final sequence in the snow is so extraordinary it defies belief.
That final sequence is amazing — Beatty actually pays off what he’s traded on from the beginning, what it looked like he could not, and so what? I think Altman respects the moment, and the idea of moments in general, but his broad view has an understanding that as great as a moment is it will pass (this is what makes A Prairie Home Companion of all things so good).
Not even the biggest Altman fan anymore but that’s one of the all-time greatest films for me. Really glad I could write about it (and thanks for reading).
Excellent write-up, by the way. Loved the final line.
Yeah, that’s a genuinely beautiful essay.
Thank you! Both!
A Serious Man – Coen rewatch reaches the film I’ve picked as my go-to favourite from their filmography the last few times I’ve thought about it. I actually felt a little nervous to revisit it in case it didn’t live up to that self-hype, but I definitely still think it’s incredible and among their top-tier even if picking a #1 gets more and more difficult. It’s such a wonderfully unique, mysterious film and part of its charm is that I can’t explain exactly why I like it so much. The mixture of growing dread and frequently laugh-out-loud comedy isn’t completely unusual I guess (Barton Fink has a similar thing going on) but the way this one builds and builds and then jumps off a cliff… it’s wild, I love it. Possible nitpick: during the Columbia Record Club scene, the two albums listed (Santana – Abraxas and CCR – Cosmo’s Factory) both came out in 1970, yet this movie is set in 1967. I wonder if they just thought “Santana Abraxas” made for the funniest dialogue. Or maybe they assumed that nobody watching would currently be immersed in late-60s / early-70s music as part of a long-winded listening project. Gotcha, Coens!
The argument I’ve heard and subscribe to regarding Larry’s albums is the Coens are being sly — yes they’re anachronistic, but “Abraxas” is another name for God and Cosmo’s Factory = Cosmos Factory, another view of the infinite. And Larry doesn’t want them! He is trying to get advice from Rabbi Marshak, he wants to know what Hashem wants from him, and here are the words of God (note the Hendrix that accompanies the Goy’s Teeth story as well, rock is the word of the Divine) being delivered to his damn door! But “I don’t want Santana Abraxas!” Well, what is it Larry?
Anyway, this might be my favorite, it’s definitely top three, and you nail it — the weird mix of comedy and dread and then that astonishing ending.
Oh I like that! It does feel like an intentional choice so I’m happy to subscribe to this theory which is a little more sophisticated than my “Krusty the Clown saying ‘Seattle'”-adjacent one. All of the Rabbi scenes are just incredible, whether they’re telling bizarre stories, singing the virtues of the parking lot / Jefferson Airplane.
Wasn’t there a Billy Joel song on this soundtrack?
“I AAAAAAAAAAAAM a serious maaaaaan
oh yes I am”
Very well put. After I saw it for the first time I loved it, but if someone asked me why I wouldn’t be able to articulate it. It’s a strange, great movie.
The Simpsons, “Bart Gets An F” — an early and constant favorite. I was never close to the Bart end of educational performance, pure Lisa mode here, but the fix he’s in of being left back somehow is more of an existential terror because of that, I think. And for any procrastinating person (raises hand) the show’s depiction of how you can put stuff off here, and maybe have others help you in that regard, has never been topped. Wonderful Pamela Hayden work as Martin and of course Nancy Cartwright is getting into heaven just on her work as Bart here, his breakdown at the end still gets me (along with its subsequent “I kissed the teacher!?”) realization. Wonderful stuff. And I had somehow forgotten this exchange, the fish struggling ashore that will in a decade evolve into Coach McGuirk:
Homer: Marge, could you get me another beer, please.
Marge: Just a second, Homer. Lisa has some good news.
Lisa: He doesn’t care, Mom.
Homer: Sure I do! I just want to have a beer while I’m caring.
Saturday Night Fever — This movie is so heavily identified with a particular genre of music that shortly thereafter disappeared from the scene that I feel the film itself has been unfairly dismissed. Because I thought it was really great. John Travolta plays Tony, a 19-year-old Brooklyite who is highly admired in his neighborhood for being a spectacular disco dancer despite having a mediocre retail job and a diffident family life. The action of the film centers around Travolta preparing for a dance contest at his local club with Stephanie (Karen Lynn Gorney), an obnoxious social climber who is in the process of achieving her modest dream of moving 5 miles north.
Travolta is the perfect actor for this role, because just like Tony himself, he’s a completely open book. Tony has no emotional guile. His moments of pleasure are fully felt, and when someone disappoints him or even disappoints his innate albeit unformed sense of justice, he immediately lashes out, and then just immediately is contrite and full of remorse. Meanwhile, the association with Stephanie begins ever so slightly to broaden his outlook to the point where he realizes there could be more to life than living in his boyhood bedroom, being denigrated by his miserable father, and then slaving away all week at the paint store just to make enough money to go out on Saturday night and occasionally have unsatisfying sex with dance groupies in the back of a friend’s car. But as chary as Stephanie‘s goals are, even that seems out of reach for Tony.
Is it possible? I finally got around to seeing this movie because a credit card company has released a commercial where the now-70 Travolta reprises the role as a now senior citizen, Tony, who is somehow also Santa Claus? It’s possible. But that’s OK, because it gives me an excuse to mention Donna Pescow as Annette, Tony’s disappointed dance partner and groupie who also appears in the commercial. Annette is as gormless in her pleasures and injuries as Tony, and Pescow makes you fall in love with her whenever she’s on screen. She also has the single best moment of the picture, when she glances down and smiles because she has nicer boobs than the stripper.
I need to see this, but I have read the MAD parody and while they obviously goof they are usually decently faithful to the plot in these things and damn, this gets pretty dark right?
It does indeed. The entire movie is fairly pessimistic, but things go from existential malaise to much worse in the third act.
I actually was reviewing the letterbox comments on this movie earlier today, and it makes me despair for the critical faculties of the younger generations. Because they were all saying the movie sucks because they wanted a fun dance movie and they were surprised that the film is actually trying to say something about class and how modern life, at least as it existed in 1976, can hurt us and wear us down. Like, yeah, folks, have you not seen movies before?
Heh, imagining the fun dance movie where John Travolta is busting out his moves in order to save the rec center. Which is an all-time great plot! But not what this is up to.
This was Gene Siskel’s favorite movie. He even owned one of Travolta’s suits from the production.
NFL Football, Broncos at Chargers – Okay, I wasn’t watching that closely or paying much attention. The Broncos got off to a strong first half start, and then the Chargers just completely took over in the second half. The fair catch kick trivia might end up being the most interesting thing about this game.
The Shield, “Haunts” – Is Billings the highlight of this episode (at least, until the final scene)? I think so. Also featuring Joe and Lester, with Vic’s attempts to help out a buddy revealing just how deeply sad said buddy’s life truly is (and where Vic is headed if he doesn’t change course).
The sports media, ever hungry for something new to say, thinks the free kick is the biggest thing since the forward pass. One site called it bizarre.
That whole “raid” is so fucking pathetic and nasty, even Vic never stooped to toilet water.
It’s funny when Lester says “I guess all that badass noise I heard about you’s bullshit.” Lester isn’t a badass at all, he’s just a sadist. (And not even a particularly effective one, as he fails to properly clear one room.)
That’s the thing, Vic is a monster, he’s also really fucking cool. Lester’s a lame, sadistic prick in a Hawaiian shirt and a sleeveless. (The guy’s perfectly cast.)
I love that it’s Dutch who ultimately takes him down (and in a weirdly professional-meets-professional way, too).
What did we listen to?
More explorations of Spotify. My wife shared a playlist someone did of 2,000 filk songs to keep me busy. I found nifty playlists of Dylan covers all the music in Grosse Pointe Blank. And discovered that Meat Loaf’s album Hang Cool Teddy Bear is not available. Indeed, a quick Google indicates it’s kind of vanished entirely. That is a shame.
Christmas Music – Some of it on purpose. I’m not a natural hater of Christmas music in general. I think the resonant chords of “We Three Kings” or the soaring possibilities of “O Holy Night” can’t be found anywhere else. But I am ready to tell the old time crooners to fuck off. Shove their Holly Jollies and their Most Wonderful Times up their insincere commercial asses. It’s not just the songs themselves but their recordings that get played far beyond their relevance or appeal to current audiences, like having legacy newspaper comic strips read aloud to you for a month solid. Trot them out for a single play if you must so we can all chuckle and then move onto something new. These aren’t Ave Maria, they’re department store relics made to put us in the mind of showing our affection through purchases. So maybe it’s the most appropriate listening for the seasons. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
https://youtu.be/DQ9RX8r5x3c
Tired: Baby, It’s Cold Outside is rape culture
Wired: Baby, It’s Cold Outside is Gasoline Alley
I like “O Holy Night” (and “Do You Hear What I Hear?”). I gotta find a Christmas karaoke room somewhere this week.
Make sure you do it this week, performing Christmas songs at karaoke after the 25th does not get the enthusiasm you’d hope for.
God, I was thinking the same thing, but we millennials are also quietly sick to fucking death of “All I Want For Christmas” playing in every radio station, retailer and fast food place in existence. It’s an undeniable pop song and also it gets in my ears for 30 days straight every year multiple times.
You remind me that I heard a cover of “A Wonderful Christmastime” in a store yesterday, and I was struck by how it sounded much more technically accomplished than McCartney’s version but also had none of his personality, leaving me completely confused.
1001 Albums etc. – finally into the 1970s! Which is easily the most heavily represented decade on the list, so I’m going to be here for a WHILE. Highlights from the last week: Scott Walker’s “Scott 4”, which I’ve been aware of for so long but don’t think I’ve ever heard before – it’s pretty magical. I was not really aware of Spirit at all, but thoroughly enjoyed their album “Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus” which is not quite prog enough to be called prog rock or psychedelic enough to be called psychedelic but has a little playful edge of both in addition to some really solid rock songs. Good synths, too – always enjoy running into early synth adopters. Also just ran into the first Sabbath album, I think the only album of theirs I’ve heard in full is “Master of Reality” (sorry) but really enjoyed their debut, and reading about them recording it in a single day, “making it to the pub in time for last orders and then going to play in Switzerland for a fee of £20 the next day”. Lowlights: I’ve mostly found that Miles Davis is at the more tolerable end of jazz but “Bitches Brew” was just an exhausting slog. Zappa’s “Hot Rats” has such a great opening track that I resented the rest being mostly just tedious shredding.
Blank Check, Mulholland Drive – a new longest episode ever! Some really great conversations here, although a bit too much talking over each other – mostly forgivable because they were just excited to talk about a very special movie. Really need to find time to finally watch Inland Empire over the Christmas downtime.
Fuck yeah Scott 4, all of the first four Scotts are pretty good to great and escalate in quality until 4.
Scott 2 was also on the list and I enjoyed it quite a bit, but Scott 4 is definitely 2 better.
“Zappa’s “Hot Rats” has such a great opening track” SICKOS DOT JPG. He got you! And you are correct, “Peaches En Regalia” is pretty sweet. I like “Willie The Pimp”‘s extremely greasy riff and crusty Beefhearting but I can see it getting old if that’s not your bag.
Black Sabbath’s self-titled is amazing of course, I think it’s interesting that there is still a decent amount of blues-rock (“The Wizard” in particular) in the fully formed metal — Paranoid is when the metal fully takes over.
Yeah I was surprised to run into a harmonica on “The Wizard”. The critical reactions section on Wikipedia is pretty funny, people saying “this is just Cream, but worse”. Ha, they invented a new genre! What did you ever do?
Eh, nothing really new of note. I mean, I heard a couple of interesting new songs in the car, but musically speaking I’ve been more focused on just finishing my damn countdown article for the end of the year. The count itself is set in stone, but there’s still a lot of writing to do.
Obviously there were lots of live musicians in the bars and streets of New Orleans.
[SterlingArcherGif] “WELL OBVIOUSLY”
Hey Friends, What’s Up?
We get our groceries delivered. Saves time and we used to have to shop with a shopping cart since we are urbanites without a car. On Wednesday, there was a different delivery person than usual and he put one box not on the landing outside our place but one step down. So i lifted it from a bad angle. OW. My back is somewhat better today and I think it will just heal on its own. But it still hurts and it was pretty miserable Wednesday night.
In my normal job, today would be utterly dead. In my temporary job, it’s not. If anything, the seniors and the big boss are scrambling to either meet before the holidays or planning to meet right after. Some of that I think is typical for the end of the year. Some, given that I work in public media, is not. The whole industry is, shall we say, freaking out. And rightfully so. I am not very worried about my job, but I cannot say for sure it will exist in two years.
Ugh, rest that back. And good luck on the New Year. We have a friend in public radio here and they’re similarly on pins and needles.
Well, as a household with a federal employee connection, the ease into the holiday break has been made suddenly more tense thanks to developments in what passes for the government these days. Was kind of hoping things wouldn’t go to hell for another month, but might as well get a jump on it, this is what America wants, apparently. In the longview the shutdown will be fine for us, just paid time off, wasting billions of dollars in tax money (I’m not sure the public is aware of how incredibly wasteful shutdowns of any length are, both in terms of the wasted time and wasted dollars to perform them). But it doesn’t affect our holiday plans (thankfully we’re not flying or visiting a National Park), so I’m looking forward to seeing family over the next week and hopefully catching up with some old friends if they’re in town.
I was out in charge of the holiday shopping this year (is this why I’m such a grump about the Christmas music? Probably.) I challenged myself to complete it without using Amazon, and succeeded! No shade to anybody who uses it, but I found it a lot easier than I thought, just had to be willing to do a bit of driving to the right store or even one extra search. There was a board game I was getting for my niece and nephew that the manufacturer was selling from their site for cheaper and also with free shipping. Hooray! I have successfully fought one facet of consumerism while participating in another. Christmas miracle.
Oh, and in weird stuff: found a sizable drone sitting in my backyard last night. Camera attached, probably out of battery. I guess the spies have finished detailing the strategically important New Jersey and have started in on the nation’s foremost center of cultural thought, my house.
It is driving me nuts how stupid the current airplane/literal fucking constellation being believed to be drones nonsense is, yet the fact that people are totally flying drones around and doing nefarious shit with them (and those people are most likely the cops) is very real! This fucking country has yet to find a real problem and not approach it through the stupidest and most backward lens possible.
Going to say that an intellectual level, I know the whole non-story is just that, but as an emotional level it’s freaking me out because Oh No What If It’s Terrorists! There is a button in a lot of us that is far too easy to push for a long time now that has nothing to do with reality. And either our “leaders” have that same button and can’t say it, or like to push it when they can. Or like to make us look away from the real problems.
Had my annual review meeting with my boss at work, got the usual “we’re very pleased with your performance” spiel which I find baffling since I do so little. Explained that I don’t really see a future with the company because they were making me miserable even before being bought out by UHG which means I’m also now morally opposed to my own employer. Felt good to get it off my chest even if I don’t really feel like any of it can be resolved any other way than me finding a new job and getting out.
Off to see family for a couple of days over Christmas, don’t have anyone to watch the cats so I’ll be trusting an automatic food robot for the first time. Feel a bit sad about leaving them alone for that long but I guess even if they team up to destroy the robot before it can feed them, they’re not going to starve in the ~72 hours I’ll be away.
Still in job training and battling anxiety about fucking this up, but I also know a lot of that is negative self-talk/negative job experiences. Everyone at the job itself seems really nice. Otherwise traveling tomorrow to NH for Christmas.
I’ve been sick as a dog all week since I got back from my trip. Every time I think I’m starting to get better, I… don’t. Hopefully by later today I’ll feel better. I was so tired last night I just decided to go to bed a lot earlier than usual.
My trip was a blast, though. I wasn’t that fond of all the flying, and I wish I’d gotten to stay in New York a little longer, but New Orleans was a ton of fun. Lots of good food music, partying in the French Quarter and on Frenchmen Street. And a few of us went to the Saints-Commanders game, which ended up being way more exciting than I expected (or than the first half would have indicated).
I’m almost done importing all my old columns over here, which would be just in time to spend my holidays working on the year-end lists. I might not write anything for a while after that.
More than anything what I would like for Christmas is someone to clean, organize, and decorate our place. I’m terrible at that stuff. My mind simply does not work that way. When I was single I owned very little for precisely that reason; I like having open space and do not like having a bunch of crap I have to worry about being responsible for and not breaking. But my wife brought in a bunch of said crap and keeps buying more and then just never organizes anything or puts anything away or cleans up after herself or anything. I find it very adverse on my mental health to be living in a garbage dump, but I don’t have the skills or brain that can effectively solve that problem, and the person in this partnership who does completely refuses to. So I don’t know what to do.
I’ve been knocked around by a bad cold all week and it’s driving me nuts. And I hear you about the clutter, and all I can offer for advice is communication! Too much communication.
Communication has not worked to this point. We might be moving closer to intervention.
Have been driving around on leaky tires for at least a year and finally dropped a thousand bucks plus last week to get new ones/an alignment. I now have a flat tire. Extremely pissed, especially because I did this to prepare for holiday travel and now I have to figure out how to get to the fucking dealer and have them fix it in time to actually travel.
Bonus article… not a fun one, unfortunately. Brian Jordan Alvarez has been collaborating with the same crew of performers for a long time, and many of them are working on English Teacher as well. The one who isn’t… has a story about Alvarez involving obsession and sexual assault.
https://www.vulture.com/article/brian-jordan-alvarez-allegations-jon-ebeling-english-teacher.html
Why can’t we have nice things
It’s a really upsetting piece. These (usually) men who build up little cults of personality and success around themselves…IDK what we even do about that.
An addition to this week’s FAR: An adorable little old lady (she’s really only 57, but she isn’t wearing make up) visits The Criterion Collection: https://youtu.be/tyo_tJuhw8U?si=2zFB9BWBwHP8XUio
The best thing about this is how Anderson is just grabbing things like mad, the same way I would be if I ever got this opportunity.
It just occurred to me that Criterion Closet episodes are unboxing videos for cinephile grownups. Don’t know if I mean that as a criticism.
Same deal with Amoeba’s What’s In The Bag? videos. Always fun to see Elijah Wood or Sleater Kinney showing off geeky stuff.
Both Schoenbrun’s fiction films benefit enormously from their ambiguous endings, there is an obvious way to read both World’s End and TV Glow, but they’re still subject to interpretation. Owen still has the glow inside of him. He also may be slowly choking to death. (And of course, there’s also the possibility of a shared hallucination, but you know where I stand with that.)