when all's said and done, carrie bradshaw will have played midwife at the birthing of the same number of defiantly confused and pointless writers as bukowski. and ayn rand. i just watched an old episode of sex & the city with laura, thank god for syndication. things were going along fine. at the end, after a long phone conversation where either she or samantha or both were in the bathroom, second-guessing the fuck out of shit, carrie thoughtfully decided to wrap things up with a voiceover. she'd realized some important things, and she announced them into the ether, using the wafting, nasal tones of someone being made to wait--and it was priceless. just breathtakingly bad. a roll of pennies in the fat fist of shittiness. if you're going have a character ingest the obvious and barf it back up for the chicks to eat, if you're going to do that, don't make her an artist, man. we do enough of this type of shit to ourselves, please, i mean it. there are people who jump on, mis-identify it as artistic, and they have something to say, too, and that's how the yuck gets born. i'd sooner pardon you for reading fear & loathing in las vegas and concluding "mescaline will always be my friend" than i would for watching episode 8 of season 5 or whatever and having your big epiphany: "when you call me a bitch, it hurts my feelings! because you're right."
4 comments:
I'm catching up on your blog while I pump here at work like the glamorous dairy cow that I am. I want to heartily agree with you on this Bradshaw issue and pipe in that I'm pissed they're actually making a sitc movie now! My sentiments on her and that are best expressed in the words of Norma Bates in "Psycho" (1960) as played by Anthony Perkins: "Mother, she's just a stranger"! As if men don't desire strangers! As if... ohh, I refuse to speak of disgusting things, because they disgust me! You understand, boy? Go on, go tell her she'll not be appeasing her ugly appetite with MY food... or my son! Or do I have tell her because you don't have the guts! Huh, boy? You have the guts, boy?
"second-guessing the fuck out of shit" would make a fab-oh memoir title. or a subtitle for "forkulon."
This is totally unfair, and braving being the odd one out, I'm going to have to go against the grain and give a big hearty "F" to this SATC bashing.
The TSG was over the other night, and he was all like, "which one am I in Roll Call?" to which I regretfully but truthfully answered, "boy I can have but don't want."
Of course he got mad, and was really defensive and trying to get me to explain something beyond explaining until I was finally forced to say this:
"Dude, that over there," I said while pointing at my laptop, "is the fucking internet. It's not real."
Yeah, we could do the whole "SATC puts sexual verbage back into the mouths of women from which it was stolen" valorous hoo-ha bullshit, but the real point is, it's just a TV show.
With boobs.
--M
yeah, dude, okay, but the point was just to point out that the shit is pretentiously bad. i don't want you to get your panties all in a twist about it, although i'm sure you could recruit tsg to untwist them. i burned my panties a long time ago.
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