I love Shakespeare. I love words. I love the simple fact that the only good advice my father once gave to me were the words out of his mouth: “Son, words have meaning and their coinage, well spend them well…”
Now… I am not that too heady. In fact, I am simple. Yet I do still love the coinage of a good phrase. Indeed I do.
Therefore, I leave you this. As all good Bloggers do, I desire a Stage! My Kingdom for a Stage!
Annie Get Your Gun–Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better
(I Love Women)
Betty Hutton
(I Think)
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“I can knit a sweater”
“I can fill it better”
Great Fuckin’ Line!
Vid Cred: RayinDC
Annie!
I grew bored watching “Independence Day”
Couldn’t finish it. Was just wasting my time.
I love sci-fi and of course I have seen this film already a few times. It was better years ago, but it just does not age well. So I pulled the plug on it and moved on.
I selected a real ‘quality’ movie that never ages for me, to re-watch:
“Annie Hall.”
(More cerebral—smarter—better. So much better–Perfection film.)
I called up Diane Keaton (I have her on ‘Speed-Dial’)
“Hey! Wanna come over for dinner and a movie? I have Annie Hall. queued up”
“Not one of my favorite films, you got anything else in your repertoire? Like ‘Star Wars’ or something? But sure. Just let me grab a crab. What’s for dinner?”
“Lobster” I said “And you don’t wanna know what else is for dinner, but you are on the dessert menu. Know that.”
“On my way,” she said, and hung up. Rather abruptly. Presumably to grab that cab. Or crab. Or lobster.
I was gonna tell her, before she hung up, that this was no BYOL PARTY -‘Bring your own lobster.’
I had it all, already ‘sorted’
(I hoped)
You must watch the below, otherwise my post just falls all apart
First time I ever saw her was in the movie “Entrapment”
Well, she surely ‘entrapped’ me and stole my heart.
(and some other parts of my anatomy—But I will spare you the details on that—suffice to say, I watched her in that movie five times in a row. All in one day)
And ever since, when I want to look / listen / drool / I revisit her.
And thanks to the magic of our age, our wonderful internet age, I can satisfy my needs.
Ain’t much into porn, but I sure as shit am into women that I admire and if they are really beautiful… and smart…and talented…. and foreign… Welsh, Brit, French, Italian, Israeli, Kenyan, Oklahoma-en…
OK, not Okie—been there—done that—married that.Divorced that.
(Which was the worst mistake I ever made. Monumental fuck up on my part.)
I am desperately trying to build a respectful tribute post to Catherine by showing you some stolen clips from the internet.
Thank you
Watch and then drive through.
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“Sexy” as a word fails here.
There are no adequate words to describe this….
Entrap Me Baby!
Welsh Witch
Stevie Nicks
“Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night And wouldn’t you love to love her? Takes to the sky like a bird in flight And who will be her lover?”
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“All your life you’ve never seen A woman taken by the wind Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?”
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“Your life knows no answer”
“Dreams unwind Love’s a state of mind”
Stevie, I love your hair.
A man could get lost in there.
Never to be seen again.
For those who like to ‘read more about it’:
Catherine Zeta-Jones was born September 25, 1969 in Swansea, Wales (and raised in the nearby town of Mumbles), the only daughter of Patricia (nee Fair) and David James “Dai” Jones, who formerly owned a sweet factory.
She attended Dumbarton House School (Swansea). Her father (the son of Bertram (1912-1970) and Zeta Davies Jones (1917-2008)) is of Welsh descent and her mother (the daughter of William (1921-2000) and Catherine O’Callaghan Fair (1920-2001) ) is of English, Irish, and Welsh ancestry.
Her brothers are David Jones (born 1967), a development executive, and Lyndon Jones (born 1972), who works at her production company. Her birth name was simply Catherine Jones, but she added her paternal grandmother’s name (“Zeta”) so as to stand out from the many other young women with the exact same name.
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And Yes.
I have seen this one.
And I have read the book it was based upon:
And here is a fun fact:
Late one night…. dark and stormy—Some high school friends and I were stuck at a railroad crossing. There was a storm. It was fucking dark.
I had a paperback copy of the book in my hip pocket. I pulled it out and using a BIC cig lighter, read from it to my friends. Just to pass the time as the train took it’s sweet time to get the fuck out of our way…
Scared the shit out of my friends.
(They were not familiar with the story)
I really enjoyed that moment and was sad when the train finished going by…. I had not even gotten to the ‘good’ part yet.
Your hand, your tongue. Look like th’ innocent flower,
But be the serpent under ’t. He that’s coming
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night’s great business into my dispatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
MACBETH
We will speak further
LADY MACBETH
Only look up clear.
To alter favor ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me
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“Make Thick My Blood”
“Unsex Me Here”
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Why do I hold Lady Macbeth in such high esteem one may ask?
Isn’t it patently obvious?
She is cunning. She is manipulative. She is strong. (Much stronger than her husband)
“Screw your courage to the sticking-place,And we’ll not fail.”
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She is intelligent.
She is ‘ambition-on-steroids’.
She is resolute.
She is brave.
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She is Affectionate and Loving.
(Yes! Oh Yes She Is!—To her husband)
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She is loyal (The whole world of her ambition is her husband)
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She is broken.
She is madness. (In mind and in deed)
“Out! damned spot! One, two, — why, then ‘tis time to do’t. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? – Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him.”
Anyone who ‘reads me’ knows my position on ‘artists’ and art.
If you do not, here is the ‘short’ version:
“I don’t give two cups of warm spit about what they (artists, creators, movie stars, entertainers, et cetera) do off camera, off stage, away from the set, away from the recording booth.Or whatever they choose to do while in their boudoirs.
All I care about is what they create.
Does it enrich my life?
Does it entertain me?
Does it educate me?
Does it make me laugh?
Does it make me cry?
Does it move me?
Or Does It Waste My Time?
These are the only measures of worth I employ.”
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Anything Else IS A WASTE of my Mental Energy and My Time.
And My Time is the Most Valuable Thing I Own.
Or as we say in Texas (Usually about Land, but it fits even better in this context):
Below Please Find The Relevant Text If You Do Not Want To Follow The Link To The Complete Post Above.
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Now I am cognizant of the fact that there are myriad ‘Madonna Haters’ out there in ‘Radio Land.’
Here is My Philosophy, (Well-Documented in some of my posts) and some advice:
You don’t have to love the ‘artist-person’ to love the art. There are lots of performers I detest because of their off-stage persona or antics, or just piss-poor personality in general.
But… That does not stop me from enjoying and appreciating their art.
I do not give two shits about their politics, arrogance, religion, sexual preferences, et cetera. If their art entertains and enriches my life, I am good with them.
On the other hand, they can be as wonderful and charming as all get out, but if they have no true performance talent, I move on.
Here is the advice part for anyone out there who may need it:
Do not be so narrow and small-minded, and full of your own morality that you prevent yourself from enjoying good art.
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Want a Second Opinion?
Watch this from Critical Drinker:
That loss is yours.
And yours alone.
Believe me, the artists, the great ones especially, don’t give a shit if you boycott them or not.
Try to remember:
“Life is a Cabaret”
Enjoy it while it lasts. Don’t deny yourself value and enjoyment in your life just because some great performer pisses you off due to their persona while off-stage.
