Eeep! Helen Mirren and Christopher Plummer!

Thanks to New York Magazine’s Vulture blog for posting this, this morning. It totally made my day.

Boxing robots? Hugh Jackman? Goodness gracious!

Dearest GW,

Okay, so, this is hilarious. Almost as hilarious as 2012 was, but not quite (seriously, it was worth seeing only for its hilariously bad portrayal of the partial apocalypse). I have just learned that Hugh Jackman (whom you may remember from such films as: X-Men, Van Helsing, and that adorably misguided movie about time travel, elevators and romance: Kate & Leopold) will be staring in a movie about boxing robots. Yes, that’s right! I just said boxing robots. This is the reason I mention it to you, really: I thought that you’d find that combination of things amusing. Here’s a little bit about the story-line (lifted from Variety):

Story centers on a fighter who has to reinvent himself when human boxers are replaced by robots. Jackman will play a struggling Robot Boxing promoter who finds a discarded robot that always seems to win. He also discovers he has a 11-year-old son, and they bond as the robot brawls its way toward the top.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: um, whaaaaaat?! Either that, or you’re making a very interesting face at your screen. Truth is, I’ve read some pretty strange synopses of movies, and they’ve turned out to be decent, the most memorable of which is definitely Children of Men. The original synopsis of Children of Men on IMDB made it sound like the worst idea ever and I was ready to bid Clive Owen’s career goodbye. Then I found out that it was a novel by P.D. James and someone wrote a better synopsis, and all was well. Of course, it turned out to be one of my favourite movies of that year. …I’m not sure a flick about robot boxing would fare as well. I guess we’ll have to see, as the king of robot-related cinema Steven Spielberg has gotten himself ensconced in this puppy, and people do still go for Steven’s blockbuster fare.

The only thing that would make this whole thing a more fitting target for the blogosphere would be if the whole thing was to be staged as a musical. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but apparently the brawny Hugh Jackman likes to sing show tunes. Let’s write Steven a letter and convince him to make this film stranger-sounding than it already is!

…or not.

Cheers and much love,
Sara

P.S. I promise that next week’s letter will be a little more engaging. Even you need some silly fluff from Hollywood, sometimes, yes?

A Case of the Saturdays… a few days late!

Well, as you’ll no doubt have noticed, I missed Saturday this week! Why? That’s a good question.

Here’s the answer: I spent the entire afternoon watching Firefly (you know, that brilliant Joss Whedon series about space cowboys?) for the first time. Yes, yes, I know — I should have done this a long time ago, but I was misguided and ill-informed, I swear it! And, well, it’s really better late than never, right? Forgive me, Shepherd, for I have sinned.

Let there be no doubt that I have righted this egregious wrong, and that I have been converted to a Firefly-loving fool. Ain’t that just shiny?

Drunken rock stars are my favourite!

Dear Mr. Hewson,

I read today that you were giving some drunken advice to one of the members of Muse, and it tickled me pink. Of course, it tickled me pink mostly because I can only imagine how amusing a drunken Bono might be. Spinner Canada has posted this lovely little piece that includes a short interview with Muse’s drummer Dominic Howard, and I must say, he’s quite polite about the whole thing. I suppose you can’t really bite the hand that feeds though, can you? I say this because I’m sure you’re a hilarious prat when you’re drunk.

Seriously.

Oh, and the allergy to red wine thing… is that true? That’s such a “rock star” allergy. It sounds almost made up to me. What were you drinking when you took this poor man into a corner, anyway? Rest assured, of course, I think you’re amazing: drunken rock’n'roller or sober uber-activist. I just know you well enough to know that this poor boy was probably ready to smack you into the next week by the time the conversation ended. Funny how certain people (*ahem* you included) can get on your last nerve, and yet you can still think the world of them. I figure it’s why no one’s bothered to kidnap you and torture you with the terrible teenage poetry of emo kids while you’re tied to a merry-go-’round with that blasted yellow polyester rope they sell in convenience-cum-hardware stores in Nowhereville, USA.

…wow. Sorry about that. That really does sound terrible. Maybe nylon rope would be better.

Take care, my friend. Watch your back in playgrounds and hardware stores, and know your limits.

Cheers, sir!
Sara

 

The Sounds of Silence

Well, I never!

I woke up this morning only to be misinformed about something very important: the release date of a piece of music history. I receive a daily email that has an interesting fact and a so-called inspirational quote in it. I usually really love reading them first thing in the morning as it starts my day off on a positive note. My positive note went flat when I realized (after very little research) that this morning’s fact was wrong!

Oops, I made a boo-boo!

Last week’s “Thursday’s Child’s Play” post was filled with clips from cartoons of yesteryear, and I was completely delighted to have given myself an excuse to write about shows I used to love as a kid. So much so, in fact, that I decided to post a companion piece to it this week. Of course, this is also partially because I eagerly told my friends about my post, only to come up against some horrified looks, followed by “I can’t believe you forgot [insert their favourite cartoom/live action show, here]!”

So, I have decided to go back to the drawing board and include a few more shows for those “young at heart” (speaking of which: does anyone remember those really old school Becel commercials? God, I’m going to have that jingle stuck in my head for the rest of the night. Great!).

Anyway — here goes:

Little Tiny Votey Pencils

I am, to this day, amused by the fact that one of my first TV crushes was on Rick Mercer, Canadian satirist extraordinaire. And he is, to this day, one of my “I think you’re hilarious so I have a completely benign crush on you” men. The only time I really pay much attention to Canadian politics is when it’s filtered through Mercer’s finely-tuned hilarity. Force of habit, I suppose — I did watch 22 Minutes religiously as a kid, starting around the time I was 8.

Anyway, I just popped by my YouTube account to see if there was anything new with my subscriptions, and low and behold, I found this little bit of funny from the Rick Mercer Report:

Um, okay — I give in.

I can’t help it: I love the new Lady Gaga song.

The video (as with most Gaga) is completely off-the-charts and ridiculous, but that’s what we’ve come to expect from her, isn’t it?

My bottom line with her is that she writes such amazing pop songs. I don’t want to equate her with Madonna, but I think her self-awareness and edge classes her above the Britney’s and Christina’s of the world, that’s for sure.

Excuse me, Sarah, could you pass me that copy of Nabokov?

Dearest GW,

Well, today has been a lesson in “people who frustrate me”, and I’m just about to explode.

So, what do I do when faced with the frustrations of my own life? I go out and look for things in the world that just frustrate me more, of course! There’s nothing that cures frustration like more frustration. And really, who doesn’t love re-directing their frustration and anger toward something they feel less keenly and therefore can attack more freely? It’s the best medicine, next to laughing your ass off at your foolish friends over drinks. Since I don’t have the latter, I’m going straight for the former, and in doing so, have recruited Sarah Palin’s book “Going Rogue” as the target of my frustration.

Infinity’s a great place to start

“The universe is infinite”, he says. “That just explains it all. When you don’t understand, that’s all you can say; and it’s true!”

“Well, I guess it’s like Bono says — infinity’s a great place to start,” she replies.

“You’re foolish… but right.”