Friday, January 11, 2002

A system crash ate a 3/4-finished essay on Le Guin. So, instead, for your reading pleasure:
"Forbidden Love" trailer for Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones

The Lucasfilm logo appears. Instead of purring in anticipation as for Star Wars I, the audience moans in soon-to-be justified dread.

Princess Amidala appears. She appears to have been viciously attacked with a bushel basket.
Amidala: "Why, Ani! You've grown!"
Anakin Skywalker The Soon To Be Bad Guy: "Stop calling me Annie. Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya!"
Audience: "I find this guy slightly less appealing than the kid in the last episode."

Amidala: "Look at my hair! It changes! Every scene!"
Audience: "Who are you, Christina Aguilera?"
Anakin: "Ours is a forbidden love."
Amidala: "Yup, forbidden all right."
Anakin: "Really, really forbidden."
Amidala: "No way are we going to snog." (looks over shoulder at audience.) "Really. Watch us not snog!"
Audience: "Aiiieeee!"
Amidala: "You're giving me the cold shoulder because you're a Jedi, aren't you?"
Anakin: "Nope, I just keep colliding with your hair."

Obi-wan: "You can't trust her. Even though last movie I trusted her when she was the universe's only known elected Queen. Now she's a politician, and untrustworthy. You know, I've been in some really good movies. Go watch Velvet Goldmine again and admire my full-frontal nudity."

Amidala: "Don't look at me like that. It makes me think of my appalling hair choices."
Anakin: "Don't worry. I'm a 20-year-old guy with a bun and an elflock."
Audience: "Gaah! My eyes!"

George Lucas: "But wait, there's more! Observe my Carmina Burana-derivative soundtrack! And my flashy quick cutting! And boy, are those some sets and special effects, or what? And swords! did I mention the swords?"
Audience: "Hah. As if that made up for the two hours of ennui that were the last movie. And we've been at rock concerts that had more convincing lightsabers."

George Lucas: "Don't miss Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones!!"
Audience: "Attack of the WHAT?" (laugh so hard they miss the first 10 minutes of Harry Potter)

Thursday, January 10, 2002

Loaf of banana-blueberry bread in oven. More precisely, loaf is 2/3 banana-blueberry 1/3 plain-banana. Son hates blueberries. Am disgracefully overindulgent parent. Son will no doubt grow up to join fanatical organization antithetical to all values cherished most dearly. Poss. Promise Keepers.

Cassie Claire has started writing diaries for each character in The Lord Of The Rings. They're hysterical. Scroll down to the bottom of the page and read up.

Why, yes, Virginia, there are homoerotic overtones.

Wednesday, January 09, 2002

In our household, if it isn't purple, it's probably black. Seriously. When we take the kids out to an amusement park, we tend to look like either Revenge Of The Barney or Beatnik Family Reunion. It's not a political statement (I think), we just like purple. And black.

At laundry day, this causes a bit of a problem, because all the other clothes in the house slowly turn a nasty sort of greyish-lavendery-grunge. With magenta splotches, courtesy of my daughter. (Yes, I was brought up to sort clothes before I did laundry. I was also brought up to give money to the ACLU, vote Democratic, and cook cornbread in a cast-iron skillet. I held on to the important traditions.)

This is an unsolicited product endorsement. There's a product called "Woolite Dye Magnet" in U.S. supermarkets and Target. It works. You put this innocent little bit of white felted paper into your wash, and it becomes the scapegoat. It sacrifices its snowy purity for the higher good. When you take the bit of felted paper out of the dry clothes, it is a bright purple, or a nasty grey, or occasionally a pale magenta.

The other clothes, however, are their original color. I consider this nifty.