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Category Archives: Television

Dec 27 2021
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Adrastos, Comedy, COVID-19, Diary, Mardi Gras, New Orleans, Sports, Television

Fatigue Fatigue

BERJAYA

Everyone is tired of the pandemic. I know I am. I’m tired of being tired. Instead of mere pandemic fatigue, I have fatigue fatigue.

One of the most worrisome, even irksome, recent developments have been premature declarations of victory. Everyone wants it to end but hoping that it’s over, is a poor substitute for proof that the pandemic is on its way out. That’s the phase we’re in right now. It’s mentally and emotionally more dangerous than the reaction to past waves.

The amateur epidemiologists tell us that Omicron is not that bad: it’s not as long-lasting and kills fewer people. To say that’s a low bar is like saying I’m a cat person or Saints fan. Most early reports are anecdotal and/or journalistic. The data is sparse but encouraging except for one problem: it’s the most contagious wave thus far.

Speaking of the New Orleans Saints, the easiest way to be infected with Omicron is to hang out with my local NFL team. They’re so decimated that they were obliged to sign Jason of The Good Place’s favorite player:

BERJAYA

Blake Bortles is the journeyman’s journeyman as well as a running joke on The Good Place. And Jason is a lovable dolt. So it goes.

How decimated are the Saints? So decimated that Sean Payton  tried to lure Drew Brees out of retirement to backup green rookie Ian Book. How green is Ian Book? He played QB for the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. That’s green, y’all.

Showing more sense than he did during his playing days, Drew Brees wisely declined. Besides, being around the Saints is a surefire way to catch Omicron. That would get in the way of Drew’s lucrative teevee gig.

I wish that New Orleans Mayor Teedy had the sense of Drew Brees. I think that having Carnival parades is a bad idea based on what we know now. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: a yellow light is in order, not boosterism.

I’m the guy who usually catches everything, but I’ve stayed COVID-free during the pandemic. I’m unwilling to risk my undefeated record just because Mayor Teedy wants to spike the ball. They can have parades but I’m unlikely to attend or entertain company.

As you can see, my fatigue fatigue is aimed at wishful thinking. It makes me want to make like Paul Douglas in the Panic In The Streets featured image.

Worst-case scenario thinking is in order when it comes to the pandemic. I want it to be over but in the immortal words of Lawrence Peter Berra:

BERJAYA

You know times are tough when I quote a New York Yankee legend or praise Drew Brees’ acuity. Oh well, what the hell.

One thing my fatigue fatigue does not extend to is the annual Jon Swift Roundup of satirical blog posts. My Owning The Commies With John Neely Kennedy post joined this year’s festivities. Props to Batocchio of Vagabond Scholar for keeping this tradition alive. While we’re plugging away, a reminder that The Best Of Adrastos 2021 is online.

I also never tire of Dave Barry’s annual year in review piece in the WaPo. I stole “I am not making this up” from Dave. I only steal from the best.

Finally, I write my posts on WordPress then feed them into MS Word for a spell/grammar check. It nearly had a stroke over this post title: DELETE REPEATED WORD.

Since I had a green reverie earlier and the word fatigue is rarely used in song lyrics, the last word goes to Al Green:

 

Dec 22 2021
4 Comments
Adrastos, Comedy, Film, Fog Of History, Television

Being The Ricardos

BERJAYA

I’m a show biz history buff so when I first heard about Being The Ricardos, I was excited. The real Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz were interesting people who were unlike their public images. I was in a bad mood yesterday so I watched it thinking it might improve my mood, It did not. It made it worse.

I spent the first 20 minutes of the movie adjusting the brightness on the tube. It’s a new QLED teevee with a sharp picture on everything except Being The Ricardos. The picture was dark and murky even on the set of I Love Lucy. I eventually moved to my desktop computer. After turning the brightness all the way up, it was watchable. Just barely.

The reason for the murkiness is the use of ambient lighting. It was a bad look when Stanley Kubrick started the trend with Barry Lyndon in 1975. Aaron Sorkin is no Stanley Kubrick. To be blunt, he’s a bad director and overrated writer.

Sorkin may think he’s following in the footsteps of writers such as Billy Wilder and Preston Sturges who became directors to protect their material. Instead, he should have followed Neil Simon or David Kelley’s example and let someone who knows what they’re doing direct. Aaron Sorkin thinks he knows everything. He does not.

Repeat after me: Aaron Sorkin is a bad director.

The premise of Being The Ricardos is promising. It’s set during a momentous week for Lucy and Desi. The Red Scare has ensnared America’s favorite redhead. Lucy is pregnant and the couple want to be the first to “have a baby” on the electric teevee machine. Desi wins the day on both points. Viva Desi.

The real Desi Arnaz was a smart and charming man. The reel Desi as played by Javier Bardem is smart and charmless. Bardem is a fine actor, but he’s woefully miscast. Desi Arnaz was a charming rogue with a twinkle in his eye and bounce in his step. Bardem has a somber visage with nary a twinkle or bounce in sight. Charm always eludes Aaron Sorkin.

Repeat after me: Aaron Sorkin is a bad director.

There was an online controversy over Nicole Kidman’s casting as Lucille Ball. The amateur casting directors of Twitter favored Debra Messing. I’m a Kidman stan and thought she did a good job. Besides, when casting the part of a star, choose a star. Nicole Kidman *is* a star but she was burdened with an unwieldy script replete with confusing flashbacks.

Repeat after me: Aaron Sorkin is a bad director and overrated writer.

I was excited when I heard of the casting of Nina Arianda as Vivian Vance/Ethel Mertz and JK Simmons as William Frawley/Fred Mertz. They were both good, but Nina wasn’t given much to do. It’s a pity because I love her as Patty the sharp lawyer in Goliath.

The depiction of Bill Frawley was disconcerting. He was indeed an alcoholic but by all accounts he was a charming drunk instead of the cranky old man in this fakakta movie. Frawley played Bub the grandfather on My Three Sons and the boys on that show loved him onstage and off. Charm always eludes Aaron Sorkin.

Why does a man with no sense of humor continue to set his work in the world of comedy? Sorkin did it on teevee with Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, which was about an SNL-type show. Unfortunately, the comedy bits were unfunny. That’s also the case with Being The Ricardos. Studio 60 was eventually blown off the air by 30 Rock, which debuted at around the same time. My countrywoman Tina Fey is funny. Aaron Sorkin is not.

I could go on and on about the flaws and anachronisms in the movie, but it boils down to this: Aaron Sorkin is a bad director.

It’s time to grade Being The Ricardos. I give it 2 stars and an Adrastos grade of C- only because I’m grading on a curve.

Repeat after me: Aaron Sorkin is a bad director.

The last word goes to the real Desi Arnaz:

Dec 21 2021
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Adrastos, Bigotry, Diary, Dipshit Insurrection, Political Crack, Teabaggery, Television, Twitter

Things That Make Me Cringe

BERJAYA

The brilliant season three finale of Succesion led me to revisit the first two seasons. For those of you who haven’t seen it, it’s the Murdoch family fictionalized and tabloidized.

Succession is either a comedy with tragic overtones or a tragedy with comedic touches. That seems to be in the eye of the beholder/viewer. I think it’s funnier than a ferret down the trousers.

As you can see from the featured image, I have a nickname/alternate title for the show: The Big Cringe. I should probably stop using slashes lest you think me a slasher or the guy from Guns N’ Roses. I do, however, dig his top hat.

Most of the cringeworthy elements involve the Roy children, especially Kendall, trying to please their tyrannical and manipulative father Logan whose catch phrase is FUCK OFF.

Be prepared to cringe as Kendall pays tribute to his evil father with some rich white boy hip hop:

As I cringed my way through two seasons of The Big Cringe, I pondered things that make me cringe. The news is full of cringeworthy things today, let’s look at a few.

  • Owning the libs reached a new high/low this week with teenage vigilante Kyle Rittenhouse getting a hero’s welcome at some Wingnut-palooza.
  • At the same event, Fox News host Jesse Waters advocated vigilante violence against Dr. Fauci. That made me flinch as well as cringe.
  •  Joe Manchin hating on his own constituents with his belief that child tax credit money is spent on drugs and junk food. He forgot to call them hillbillies.
  •  Dipshit Insurrection hero/victim Michael Fanone quit the DC Metro Police Force because he was harassed by pro-Trump cops.
  • The parade of frivolous lawsuits: the Impeached Insult Comedian is suing New York Attorney General Tish James claiming that her investigation is mean. Alex Jones and PowerPoint Meadows are suing the Dipshit Insurrection Committee for the same reasons. The meanness to nice Trumpers must stop. #sarcasm
  • News organizations who were shocked that former President* Pennywise made anti-Semitic comments.
  • An editorial in the local rag entitled: A busybody Yankee congressman should not take on LSU coach Brian Kelly. The Yankee in question is New Jersey representative Bill Pascrell who tweeted this:

Wealthy boosters running my alma mater also makes me cringe.

One story made me laugh, not cringe. The Kaiser of Chaos was booed at his event with Bill-O, the ghost of wingnuts past Why? He admitted that he’d been booooooosted:

I’m worn out from all the cringing. It beats the hell out of being so gloomy that I quoted a conservative poet in support of my liberal viewpoint. That was so yesterday.

It’s time for me to fuck off.

The last word goes to the opening credits and theme song of The Big Cringe:

Dec 18 2021
Adrastos, Comedy, COVID-19, Diary, Fog Of History, Food and Drink, Music, New Orleans, Odds & Sods, Political Crack, So Called Liberal Media, Television

Saturday Odds & Sods: Jacob Marley’s Chain

BERJAYA

Jacob Marley’s Ghost by John Leech.

Things had slowed down in New Orleans on the COVID front, but it looks as if we’re about to be hit with another wave. I know of at least 10 people who have been exposed to the highly contagious Omicron variant. I’m glad the Carnival parading season is late this year. We may still be able to salvage it. Stay tuned.

This week’s seasonal theme song was written by Aimee Mann for her classic 1993 album, Whatever. It’s more of a Dickensian song than a holiday song, which is why I like it so much.

We have two versions of Jacob Marley’s Chains for your listening pleasure: the studio original and a live solo acoustic version with an amusing introduction by the songwriter.

We’ve all been foolish, but I for one have never been part of a chain-chain-chain of fools:

It’s time to stop fooling around and jump to the break.

Continue reading →

Dec 17 2021
5 Comments
Campaign Notes, Congress, Current Affairs, Dipshit Insurrection, Donald Trump Is, Elections, Immoral Values, Law/Justice, Shapiro, Television

This Is A Fine Mess You’ve Gotten US Into

Duston Stockman, Chris Hayes, Jennifer Lawrence

So there I was the other night sipping my pre-dinner cocktail and multitasking back and forth from my phone to the TV. Chris Hayes of MSNBC was interviewing Dustin Stockton and Jennifer Lawrence (no not that one, the other one), aka, the Bonnie and Clyde of the MAGA world, about their involvement in the January 6th attempted overthrow of the United States government. You can watch the entire interview right here:

Before I go any further, what is it with Trumper women and makeup? Is it their belief that if some is good, more is better, and using a spackling trough as an applicator is best?

But I digress.

Stockton and Lawrence were in the news because they had played a large part in organizing the January 6th so-called “Save America” rally that ended up with the attack on the Capital. Unlike so many others in that group, these two had decided to come clean to the congressional committee investigating the attack and have been handing over texts, emails, and all other kinds of juicy tidbits. A lot of people are worried about what they have said. A lot of congress type people.

Of course in typical Trumper fashion their claim is “we did nothing wrong”. They claim to only have been the organizers of the rally outside the White House that day and only found out the mob was going to march down to the Capital when their chief cook and bottle washer Herr Oberfuhrer Drumpf told them to from behind the cloak of White House and Secret Service safety.

So setting the table means you have nothing to do with serving the dinner. OK, gotcha.

They were shocked, shocked I tell you to discover that Donald Trump would throw them under the bus by pardoning everyone else and leaving them hung out to flutter in the winds of justice. This even after Lawrence says she’d known Trump for a decade.

You’ve known him for a decade and hadn’t figured out he does that to EVERYONE?! It’s just occurring to you that Donald Trump only cares about Donald Trump?! The rest of the non-Trumper world knew that was the case, but it was only after your failed attempt to keep him in power and his subsequently throwing you under a multi axle vehicle that you realized, “hey maybe he’s not such a nice guy”.

I shouldn’t be surprised. A con man is always gonna be a con man. And the biggest defenders a con man can have are the people he conned. It might be because they are still under the influence of the con or it might be because they are subconsciously attempting to justify to themselves the fact they were conned. Whatever the reason, and whatever the evidence mounted to prove the con, they will only under the most demanding of pressure admit to their folly.

So little Dusty, even while he attempts to throw Trump under that multi axle vehicle, also tries to do the “but what abouts” with Hayes over MSNBC’s coverage of the Trump/Russia investigation. Credit Hayes for not buying into that and keeping the interview on as even a keel as could be hoped for. He did what Chris Wallace at the first 2020 Presidential Debate should have done, but then again Wallace had to deal with a crazy person high on anti-COVID drugs (and whatever else he uses) while Hayes only had to deal with a disgruntled man child who had lost his reason for being.

Come to think of it, maybe they were both dealing with the same thing.

Press this little link to see what else these scamps were into

Continue reading →

Dec 14 2021
5 Comments
Adrastos, Dipshit Insurrection, Fog Of Scandal, Political Crack, So Called Liberal Media, Television, Twitter

Fox News Arsonists

BERJAYA

The featured image is of the so-called All-American Fox Christmas tree on fire last week. This burning tree is an excellent metaphor for the daily doings at the right-wing network.

Tucker Carlson tweeted out his outrage complete with an embedded video:

The Mothertucker went on to call the arson a hate crime and denounced the FBI and DOJ for not keeping statistics on Christmas tree arsons. Those numbers, of course, are not kept because such incidents are rare. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were some “false flag” Christmas tree burnings in the wake of the Swanson frozen food heir’s rant.

I’ve never entertained fantasies of Christmas tree arson even when I see stores decking the halls with bows of premature holly.

Fox News’ faux outrage spread to the White House briefing room:

If only they were this outraged by the Dipshit Insurrection on-the-air. Off-the-air, some famous Fox personalities texted their outrage to Mark Meadows during the attack:

  • Fox hosts Laura Ingraham, Brian Kilmeade and Sean Hannity texted Meadows on Jan. 6 to plead for Trump to do something to stop the violence unfolding at the Capitol, according to texts Meadows had turned over to the committee.
  • Don Jr.’s hair was on fire: “He’s got to condemn this shit ASAP. The Capitol Police tweet is not enough,” the president’s son wrote, adding in another text that Trump needed to give an Oval Office address because the riots had “gone too far.”
  • Kilmeade fretted that Trump was “destroying everything you have accomplished.” “Please get him on TV,” he texted Meadows.
  • Hannity asked if the then-president could “make a statement” and urge his supporters to leave.
  • Ingraham told Meadows that Trump needed to tell the insurrectionists to go home because “[t]his is hurting all of us” and “He is destroying his legacy.”

I included the Trump Junior text because TPM did and because it illustrates his utter cowardice in the face of daddy dearest. Every time I see his public pronouncements, I think of Succession’s Roman Roy dunking on everyone but his father. He cowers before Logan. The analogy collapses because Roman is funny, and Junior is just Trumpy.

Fox News, of course, did not cover the Meadows contempt hearing. Imagine that.

Slowly but surely, Fox is losing the anchors who allow the network to claim that they’re a news operation. First, Shepard Smith fled to CNBC. Last Sunday, Chris Wallace announced that he was fleeing Fox as well. He’s going to be the face of CNN’s new streaming service.

Wallace will no longer be there to counter the cable newser’s nighttime opinion hosts. You know, the people who were against the Dipshit Insurrection before they were for it.

If you told me in 2009 that Fox News would be exponentially worse twelve years later, I would have said you were crazy. They’d just hired Glenn Beck, after all. The Mothertucker makes Glenn Beck look like Walter Cronkite. I hesitate to say it, but even Roger Ailes looks less horrible in comparison to the current state of Fox News. It’s that bad.

Fox News circa 2021 is like the arsonist its hosts deplore. Instead of an All-American Christmas tree, they’re setting America on fire.

The last word goes to Arthur Brown followed by the Ohio Players:

Dec 13 2021
Jamie O, Music, R.I.P., Television

Hey Hey He Was a Monkee

BERJAYA

Gotta watch out for the quiet ones. Especially the ones wearing knit pom-pom hats indoors.

Michael Nesmith died Friday, so there is now just one surviving Monkee, Mickey Dolenz. Nesmith was indeed a member of one of the first pre-packaged boy bands, but he was much more than that, which I will talk about further down.

I am a Gen X guy, aged 54, so one might wonder why I am writing about a “Boomer Band.” Well, The Monkees are kind of our band, too.

Many of us Gen Xers were introduced to The Monkees via syndication, often via those UHF stations that we watched as a kid. UHF stations showed a ton of “old shows” in the 1970s-1980s. By old shows, I mean programs from the 50s and 60s. I grew up in York, Pennsylvania, 50 miles from Baltimore and 90 miles from Philadelphia, so we got both cities TV stations, and when we got cable, we didn’t have to move around the rabbit ears to get a clear image of Maxwell Smart.

The Monkees were part of a kids’ TV show of shows known as Captain Chesapeake on a Baltimore TV station, and every day after school I’d hear the good Captain announce it was “four bells, and time for The Monkees.” (Four bells = 4 pm for you landlubbers) I found them funny, and as a shockingly knowledgable music kid (thanks to an older sibling, think Cameron Crowe in “Almost Famous”), also thought some of their stuff was pretty good.

Seriously, how can you not think this is a great song.

Nesmith was my favorite. Something about his wry detachment struck me as extremely cool. When The Monkees made their return in the mid-late 80s during all the Summer of Love 20th anniversary nostalgia that was driven by a 1986 marathon of Monkee shows on MTV, I was disappointed Mike didn’t come along. But in a way, I got it.

Through my brother, I knew of his post-Monkee solo work and figured he didn’t want to be bothered with all that mess. His solo work is impressive, and if you are unfamiliar, I recommend checking it out. For starters, he wrote “Different Drum,” a hit song by The Stone Poneys, who had a big-eyed lead singer, Linda Ronstadt, who went on to do some things. Criminally Underrated White Bluesman Paul Butterfield and his Blues Band did Nesmith’s song “Mary, Mary” and he had another song, “Some of Shelly’s Blues” that was recorded by The Stone Poneys and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.

I’ve often wondered why the network fought The Monkees’ so hard when they wanted to do their own thing and become a true band (which they eventually did, in a way). Granted, their songwriting stable for The Monkees included some punters like Carole King and Neil Diamond. But Nesmith was a solid songwriter in his own right, as were the other members of the group.

Nesmith then went on to a solid solo career, beginning with his First National Band and then, after they broke up, the Second National Band. Arguably, Nesmith did as much to create the genre of country rock as Gram Parsons, Poco, or Emmylou Harris. In my opinion, his best country-rock album is Just Your Standard Ranch Stash, which featured a long-haired Nesmith in cowboy hat winking, perhaps one of my favorite album covers ever.

As the 70s progressed, Nesmith became more involved in producing and became the head of his own label for a bit, then turned his attention to the infant genre of music videos. He created a video program called PopClips for Nickelodeon, and in 1980, it was purchased by Time Warner and used as the foundation for a silly little network known as MTV.

That’s not all, as Nesmith was an entertainment renaissance man. He was an executive producer for movies like “Repo Man” and “Tapeheads.” He raced in the Baja 1000 off-road race with P.J. O’Rourke. He was president of The Gihon Foundation that hosted The Council on Ideas, was a vice-chair of the American Film Institute, and wrote novels.

All this time, he kept on writing and recording music, including his final album “Rays” in 2006, and bringing back a version of The First National Band a few years ago. Unfortunately, by this time, his health was slowing him down.

I haven’t even covered everything the guy did, and yes, his mom really did invent Liquid Paper. It was a life pretty damn well lived for a guy who America first met as the quiet pom-pom hat guy in a made-for-TV rock band.

The last word goes to Mike, and I choose his wonderful tale of a woman who loves her whiskey a little too much.

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Dec 11 2021
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Adrastos, Campaign Notes, Diary, Dipshit Insurrection, Film, Fog Of History, Gret Stet Politics, Law/Justice, Legal Docket, Music, New Orleans, Odds & Sods, Political Crack, Religion, Television, Twitter

Saturday Odds & Sods: A Hazy Shade Of Winter

BERJAYA

Houses Of Parliament, Fog Effect by Claude Monet.

It’s been foggy this week in New Orleans. I love the fog as long as I don’t have to drive in it. It’s a by-product of growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area. Monet loved the fog too. Perhaps I should have named my black cat Monet instead of Manet. Oh well, what the hell.

It’s runoff election day. If you’re in New Orleans, please vote. I’m eager to see the backs of several candidates, but even if they prevail I’ll be glad it’s over. No more lying fliers. Huzzah.

There’s a measure on the ballot in nearby St. Tammany Parish that would bring a casino to the dull suburban burg of Slidell. Both sides are spending buckets of money on teevee ads and making extravagant claims about the impact of a casino. It cracks me up: casinos are never as beneficial as their proponents would have you believe or as bad as opponents claim. So it goes.

A reminder that you can hear my views on today’s election by listening to The Ryne Show.

This week’s theme song was written by Paul Simon for 1968’s Simon & Garfunkel album, Bookends. It’s my favorite S&G record. It’s both arty and garfunkelly at the same time.

We have three versions of A Hazy Shade Of Winter for your listening pleasure: The S&G original, followed by the Bangles, and Hugo Montenegro:

If you’re feeling hazy, let’s shake it off by jumping to the break.

Continue reading →

Dec 10 2021
Adrastos, Diary, Law/Justice, Legal Docket, Music, Political Crack, So Called Liberal Media, Television, Twitter

Of Amateur Lawyers, Twitter Pundits & Holy Fools

BERJAYA

I like to use the Magritte caveman image when writing about stupidity and cluelessness. There’s a lot of both in the air this week, same as it ever was. I used to have to search out stupidity and cluelessness, but it can be found everywhere on the internet.

I’m on the record about amateur lawyers. They drive me nuts and that goes for reporters covering trials too. Vanity Fair’s Gabriel Sherman is a reporter I respect and admire but the courtroom isn’t usually his beat. In a futile attempt to make like Dominick Dunne, he’s covering the Ghislaine Maxwell trial. Celebrity trials can make even the smartest reporter look like a fool.

Sherman’s report has a breathless, clickbaity title: The Prosecution Is Fumbling Its Case Against Ghislaine Maxwell.

Maybe so but one of Sherman’s stated reasons is amateur lawyering at its most amateurish:

Before the trial opened, I counted myself among the pessimists who expected the case wouldn’t provide a full accounting of Epstein’s alleged crimes or expose the powerful men that allegedly participated in his depraved lifestyle. My view has held throughout the trial. I was dismayed, for instance, that prosecutor Lara Pomerantz’s opening statement ran a short 35 minutes (roughly 10 minutes less than the government’s opening argument in the Elizabeth Holmes fraud trial, for comparison).

Sherman is confusing quantity for quality. In my experience, less is more when it comes to opening arguments. Jurors get bored when lawyers drone on and on and on. The opening argument is supposed to set the table for the trial to come. Long-winded openings can be self-indulgent and irritating to the jury. Short and punchy is usually better.

LA Law was a big hit teevee show when I was a law student. Several of my professors commended to our attention the snippets of arguments on the show. One prof said something like this: “Arguing a case is like show biz, always leave them wanting more. ”

Sherman *could* be right in his assessment of the Maxwell trial BUT not because of a short opening argument.

Our first musical interlude is a McCartney song with a Lennonesque bite:

I’ve had my share of fun mocking the Twitter famous. Some style themselves as influencers. They’ve never influenced me.

Other Twitter personalities style themselves as pundits. Some like to throw Nazi analogies around. Few have any idea what they’re talking about. This is a good example:

Uh, Ron, Call I call you that? Hitler was not exactly a fan of Judeo-Christian civilization. As to the Judeo part, remember the Holocaust?

Hitler was also hostile to Christianity. His boy Himmler wanted to create a whole new religion centering on his weird Aryan fantasies and even weirder Fuhrer.

One more thing, his first name was spelled A-D-O-L-F.

Being Twitter famous doesn’t ensure that you know what you’re talking about. The opposite is often true, right Ron?

For our second musical interlude we have an original and a cover:

Holy fools were a thing in the Middle Ages. They seem to be making a comeback in the thespian set.

There’s a takedown of actor Jeremy Strong in The New Yorker. Strong plays Kendall Roy on the brilliant HBO show Succession. I think of Succession as a dark comedy with tragic overtones. The title of Michael Schulman’s piece says it all: On “Succession,” Jeremy Strong Doesn’t Get the Joke.

I started off sympathetic to Strong, then the holy fooleries began to pile up and I had to laugh at his excesses. I concluded that he’s so good as Kendall Roy because he’s playing himself. In a word: cringeworthy.

BERJAYA

BERJAYA

Method actors, can’t live with them, can’t live without them.

I originally planned to call this post Finally Friday after the George Jones song. That’s why he gets the last word.

Dec 08 2021
Adrastos, Books, Diary, Film, Fog Of History, Music, Television

Beatles Vérité

BERJAYA

It’s been 41 years since Mark Chapman murdered John Lennon. Unlike Shapiro, I don’t have a great story about where I was when I heard the news. Besides, I came to praise Peter Jackson’s remarkable documentary Get Back, not to bury John Lennon.

I was shamed by friends into subscribing to Disney+ in order to get back to where I once belonged. You know who you are. Thanks, y’all. I can always cancel without pain or penalty. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I have a different take on Get Back than Shapiro so let the games begin.

I’m in the minority on Let It Be. I’ve always liked it. The album came out when I was laid up. I had mumps and mono at the same time. I rarely do anything halfway. Let It Be was the new Beatles album so I listened to it intently on the record player my mom bought so I could play music in my sick room. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I do, however, prefer the 2003 Macca remix Let It Be Naked to the original 1970 release. The running order is different, and the Phil Spector effect has been expunged. The result is the stripped-down album the Beatles thought they were making before the dread Allen Klein brought in Spector. More about Allen Klein anon.

Until recently, I bought the conventional wisdom that the Fab Four were at each other’s throats during the Get Back sessions. The CW was wrong: the vibes were good with intermittent squabbling. All bands bicker. It’s called creative tension.

There *were* genuine moments of tension. George Harrison walked out, but he was convinced by his mates to return. The day after the band met with Allen Klein there was a dark cloud in the room, but it was dispelled when they strapped on their instruments and played. The presence of Billy Preston helped considerably: the man was a ray of sunshine with musical chops to burn.

I’ve been reading at Philip Norman’s 827-page biography of John Lennon. I say reading at because it’s absurdly over-detailed. Norman is a music writer, but as a biographer, he’s what Gore Vidal called a scholar-squirrel who includes more details than even this lifelong Beatles fan is interested in hearing. I did like the bits about how much John loved cats. Claire Trevor approves. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I consulted with Norman’s mighty tome after seeing Get Back. The source of many of the gloom-and-doom stories is Let It Be director Michael Lindsay-Hogg. I was not surprised. In Get Back, he’s forever stirring the pot hoping some drama will emerge from a bunch of guys sitting around in a room smoking and playing music.

To gin up drama, Lindsay-Hogg keeps asking why John and Paul no longer write songs together. They rarely take the bait. In fact, John makes significant contributions to the song Get Back, which was written in the studio during the sessions.

MLH also ratchets up the pressure on The Beatles to be great when all they want to do is rock. I caught Ringo rolling his eyes several times at the director who is much posher than the lads from Liverpool.

I’ve got a feeling that it’s time to jump to the break. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Continue reading →

Dec 04 2021
1 Comment
Adrastos, Books, Diary, Film, Music, New Orleans, Odds & Sods, Television

Saturday Odds & Sods: More Than This

BERJAYA

La lumière, la solitude by Yves Tanguy.

The weather has been beautiful this week in New Orleans: brisk, chilly, and sunny. Yet I’m still cranky verging on irascible. It must be the news cycle.

We went to a Confederacy Of Dunces themed birthday party last night. It was fun even though Burma Jones was not there to mop the ho flo. The birthday boy’s wife went to high school with former First Drafter Jude. As Jude would surely say at this point, it’s a small fucking world, after all.

As you know, the holidays are hard for me. This year I’ve been plagued with calls from telemarketers. I even marked one of them as SPAM RISK, but they keep calling from a variety of Gret Stet exchanges. Blocking them is emotionally satisfying but doesn’t work that well. It makes me appreciate caller ID even more.

This week’s theme song was written by Bryan Ferry in 1982 for Roxy Music’s Avalon album. It was also the title of a 1995 compilation album. It contains one of Ferry’s finest vocals more or less or is that more than this? Beats the hell outta me.

We have three versions of More Than This for your listening pleasure: the Roxy original, Robyn Hitchcock, and Matthew Sweet & Susanna Hoffs.

Before we go off hoffs-cocked, let’s join hands and jump to the break.

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Dec 03 2021
4 Comments
Film, Music, Shapiro, Television

Childhood’s End

The Beatles Get Back

 

There comes a time in everyone’s life when you realize the things of childhood, your routines, your pastimes, even your friends, have to give way to the realities of adulthood. To paraphrase the Biblical quote, it becomes time to put away childish things.

I just spent eight hours watching four men put away their childhood. It’s a miniseries/movie called The Beatles: Get Back and if I have to name the four gentlemen I’m talking about then you need a remedial class in Pop Culture 101.

If like me you watched the original Let It Be documentary when it was released in its two hour running time you will remember what a total mess it was. This version, taken from the exact same footage, allows the viewer to see what was actually going on in this four week sprint to create an album that was also a television show that was also a live performance that was supposed to be a culmination of The Beatles. It is a fascinating opportunity.

What we see is a band that is more than just the Lennon and McCartney songwriting juggernaut. We see Harrison and Starkey both making contributions; a total collaborative effort by the foursome. I found it frustrating at times when bits of songs we all know so well are being fiddled with. There is a definite desire to scream at the TV “no no Let It Be goes like this”.

There are many amusing moments, moments that put a new spin on the events of the later Beatle days. John trying to create I’ve Got A Feeling while Yoko balances her checkbook or knits next to him. Peter Sellers drops in at one point but with nothing in particular to do he clears out after a very brief stay. George noodles around with a song he’s written, trying it out for the other three and you find yourself wondering what a Beatles version of All Things Must Pass would have ended up sounding like. The four looking at a gossip item in the paper suggesting Yoko is breaking the band up with Paul quipping “yeah fifty years from now they’ll say it ended because Yoko sat on an amp”. And there is a lovely moment when Linda McCartney brings a six year old Heather into a Sunday session and the child turns the studio into a playground, ultimately getting ahold of a microphone and imitating Yoko singing. She does a pretty good job of it.

Of course there are also darkly comical bordering on tragic moments. I’m sure Jackson couldn’t help himself when he inserted a shot of McCartney and Starr musing at the end of a work day. “And then there were two” says McCartney. Yes, that’s right, now there are only two, those two. When George walks out of the session and effectively quits the band, John and Paul mull over the idea of getting Eric Clapton to join them, then Bob Dylan. “We could call it The Beatles and Company” says John, unaware of Clapton’s infatuation with George’s wife Patti but thus depriving the world of a Beatles version of Layla and Wonderful Tonight to add to Something. One woman, three classic songs about her.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you gotta click the link if you want some more

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Nov 29 2021
Adrastos, Comedy, Congress, COVID-19, Diary, Dipshit Insurrection, Food and Drink, Political Crack, Television

A Post About Nothing

BERJAYA

I took the long weekend off from politics. It may damage my pundit cred but I’m like a car battery that needs recharging only without jumper cables. As you may have guessed, that’s the set up for an aimless and meandering potpourri post. Monday is often the day I feel aimless and meandering as opposed to manic. I do, however, like the Prince/Bangles song. But it doesn’t fit my mood this chilly morning. I initially called this post Blue Monday, but I believe in truth in advertising so A Post About Nothing it is.

I assume y’all get the Seinfeld reference, so I won’t belabor the point and tell an aimless and meandering story about a night at a Chinese restaurant. We did, however, try to eat at our favorite Chinese eatery way out in Kenna, Brah a few weeks back. But they had storm damage and were only serving takeout from a limited menu. We passed. We go there for the atmosphere. I’m lying: we go there for the Mongolian Beef.

We got a fancy new Samsung smart TV yesterday. Setting it up made me feel dumb. The physical set up was easy enough except when Claire Trevor decided to help. She’s one of those cats who gets into everything. Her tech skills are de minimus, so I shooed her away. It was easy since the TV came in a box within a bigger box. Every day is boxing day for Claire.

Setting up the new TV reminded me of the first time I set up a computer back in the tech stone age. I was intimidated but muddled through. I hate that printed manuals are no longer part of the deal. It’s a pain in the ass to have to use the E-manual on the TV or download a PDF. Holy shit, I sound like a Seinfeld character. Sorry about that. I’ll try and do better.

I’ve spent much of the pandemic being the guy who keeps saying: “It’s not over yet. Don’t spike the ball.” I would rather spike the ball, but the virus is tenacious and keeps bouncing back. Its latest iteration Omicron sounds extra-sinister. It sounds like a sci-fi or comic book villain sprung to viral life, The last thing I want to be is an extra in a comic book movie. There I go again, sounding like a Seinfeld character. It’s a Monday thing.

What political news I’ve seen was bleak. The Man of La Manchin and the Sinematic Senator are being deluged with contributions from GOP donors. We already knew that Unholy Joe was a corrupt piece of shit, but I’ve tended to think of Veda Pierce Sinema as a shallow narcissist desperate for attention. Of course, one can be a shallow narcissist and still be a corrupt piece of shit. Exhibit A is the Impeached Insult Comedian. That’s better, I sound like a cynical Curb Your Enthusiasm character instead of Jerry or George. I identify with Larry David’s shouty agent Jeff who also plays shouty dad Murray on The Goldbergs. I’m feeling shouty right now.

My favorite recent news story involves the Dipshit Insurrection. The headline at TPM almost says it all: Broadway Actor Who Plays Judas In ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ Charged With Storming Capitol Alongside Oath Keepers.

Actually, James Beeks d/b/a James T. Justis is a road show Judas or is that stock company Judas? Beats the hell outta me. I should ask my friend the Stage Mother. She knows from musicals.

It’s also ironic that the road show Judas stormed the Capitol with the Oath Keepers. If I remember my biblical movies correctly, Judas was the ultimate Oath Breaker. And they said that irony was dead.

Speaking of irony, the jailed Judas is a man of many monikers. He has a YouTube page under the name James ‘Delisco’ Beeks. Here he is auditioning for Judas:

Now that was something.

I’d like to conclude this post about nothing with a quote from the hit Billy Preston song Nothing From Nothing:

Nothing from nothing means nothing. You gotta have something, if you wanna be with me.

Obviously, the last word goes to the late Billy Preston and his spectacular Afro:

Nov 27 2021
Adrastos, Diary, Film, Fog Of Scandal, Law/Justice, New Orleans, Odds & Sods, Television, Twitter

Saturday Odds & Sods: Name Of The Game

BERJAYA

Clown at a diner on Thanksgiving in Reno, Nevada by Thomas Hoepker.

The New Orleans weather yo-yo continues as temperatures rise and fall. Making matters worse is that it’s happening in the middle of the night. We’ve had more than a few days where the high or low was at the stroke of midnight. Oy, just oy.

The weird weather has led to some weird dreams. The most puzzling one involved staying with two friends who were married in my dream but don’t know one another IRL. They refused to change bathroom lightbulbs or allow me to do so. I am not a fan of showering in the dark. I did it after Hurricane Ida but didn’t like it. I have no idea what this dream means but it’s sufficiently weird to share.  Oh well, what the hell.

Our Thanksgiving was pleasant and low key. We didn’t get the turkey dinner at the drug store because such a thing is impossible in 2021. We had a quiet dinner at home then visited some friends we hadn’t seen since the lockdown. It was an exercise in Gamalian normalcy. Not bad for a guy who has developed a crowd phobia. It’s a far cry from the rock and roll infused days of my wayward youth.

This week’s theme song was written in 1972 by Pete Ham for Badfinger’s Straight Up album. It marked Ham’s emergence as a songwriting force to be reckoned with. Sadly, Pete Ham killed himself just three years later. It was a great loss.

We have two versions of Name Of The Game for your listening pleasure: the Badfinger original and a recent cover by Susanna Hoffs and Aimee Mann.

It’s time for another trip to disambiguation city. Bryan Ferry wrote The Name Of The Game for his 1987 album Bete Noire.

Now that we’ve pondered names and games, let’s jump to the break,

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Nov 20 2021
Adrastos, Books, Comedy, Diary, Film, Fog Of History, Food and Drink, Gret Stet Politics, Music, New Orleans, Odds & Sods, Television

Saturday Odds & Sods: Into The Lens

BERJAYA

Noir et blanches by Man Ray.

New Orleans weather is as variable during the fall as it is unchanging in the summertime. It’s been cold and dry then warm and muggy, but I have not resorted to air-conditioning. So it goes.

The Orleans Parish runoff election is scheduled for December 11th. I’m supporting an old school NOLA pol in one race and a reformer who’s running against an old school NOLA pol in another. Sometimes I even confuse myself.

I voted to reelect Jay Banks as my district city councilmember. He ran first in the primary despite all the mud thrown at him by his “reformer” opponents. They lost me forever when I saw that they’d rented a billboard together to plug their primary candidacies. Collusion is a bad look.

In the Sheriff’s race, longtime incumbent Marlin Gusman just missed winning in the first round. He’s a terrible sheriff but an excellent politician. I’m voting for his opponent, Susan Hutson, but she looks like a long shot because of all the local political muscle massed against her.

Like many others on the left, Team Hutson seems to underestimate how conservative many older black people are. When I was a neighborhood leader, the most rabid people about crime were elderly black folks. They’re also comfortable with Gusman who is favored to stay in office despite all the outside money being spent on behalf of his opponent.

This week’s theme song was written by Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes in 1980. It began life with the title I Am A Camera and was intended for the Buggles second album. Then Horn and Downes joined Yes, and it became Into The Lens, the first track of side two of the Drama LP.

We have the song in both incarnations for your listening pleasure. I prefer the Yes version because of Howe’s guitar and Squire’s bass, but Downes excels on keyboard on both versions.

There’s an oddball link between our theme song and this week’s Friday Cocktail Hour. Cabaret was based on John Van Druten’s 1951 play I Am A Camera, which in turn was adapted from Christopher Isherwood’s 1939 novel Goodbye To Berlin. It doesn’t get much odder than that.

Before we nod off like Lee Miller in the May Ray featured image, let’s jump to the break.

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Nov 14 2021
Adrastos, Film, Music, Sunday Morning Video, Television

SWV: Omnibus Does Dino

This week’s Sunday Morning Video follows up on yesterday’s review of Dino by Nick Tosches. It’s a BBC documentary about the life and times of the world’s most introverted public extrovert. The Omnibus in the post title is a news show, not public transportation.

Nov 13 2021
3 Comments
Adrastos, Comedy, Diary, Film, Fog Of History, Music, Odds & Sods, Television, Twitter

Saturday Odds & Sods: How Will I Ever Be Simple Again

BERJAYA

Two Comedians by Edward Hopper

April 2020 was Richard Thompson/Edward Hopper month Odds & Sods-wise. I couldn’t resist reviving the combination for this week’s entry. They go together like peas and carrots.

Today is Dr. A’s birthday as well as municipal election day. I haven’t been that electorally engaged this cycle. Perhaps it’s the deluge of flyers we’re gotten in the mail. New Orleans pols save their low blows for direct mail. My policy is to disbelieve everything in them. I call them lying flyers.

This week’s theme song was written by Richard Thompson in 1986 for the Daring Adventures album. It was the first RT album to be produced by Mitchell Froom. Does that make it a Froom With A View? Beats the hell outta me.

We have three versions of How Will I Ever Be Simple Again for your listening pleasure: the studio original, Emmylou Harris, and RT and Emmylou live.

The stars have aligned with a second RT/EH combination. I wonder if Emmylou likes the art of Edward Hopper. Another mystery to ponder.

Now that we’ve simplified our lives, let’s complicate them by jumping to the break or is that breaking to the jump? Beats the hell outta me.

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Nov 12 2021
2 Comments
Congress, Current Affairs, Elections, Shapiro, Television

The 19th Avenue Solution

19th Avenue San Francisco

There is an avenue in the city of San Francisco that provides a shining example of confrontations old and new, not only in The City That Knows How but for the rest of the country.

It’s called 19th Avenue.

19th Avenue cuts through the west side of the city, what is sometimes called The Outside Lands, from the southern border to Golden Gate Park. Though you stay on the same street, it magically changes names to Park Presidio when you exit the park and until you get to the Golden Gate Bridge on ramp. Thus it is the main connector from San Mateo County (just south of San Francisco) via Highway 280 to Highway 101, the bridge and over to Marin County.

That’s right, there is no freeway between the south end of The City and the Golden Gate Bridge. It’s one big surface street. Not that they haven’t tried to build a freeway.

Back in the 1950’s when freeway construction was all the rage in California there were plans to build a connector freeway above 19th Avenue to make it simpler for those in the south to get to and across the bridge or vice versa. Those living in the neighborhood of 19th Avenue we firmly against it. Having seen what happened to the areas where freeways had intruded elsewhere in the city and the attendant lowering of not just home values but quality of life values they wanted no part of a freeway.

This was not a Democrat versus Republican thing or a liberal versus conservative thing or even a Downtown SF versus The Outside Lands thing. This was the people living in the area who were saying “Why is our home less important than moving people from outside the southern end of The City to outside the northern end?” versus the forces of progress saying “The state has a vested interest in moving people and goods as quickly and efficiently as possible”.

So what happened? You already know there is no freeway above 19th Avenue, so did the homeowners of the late 1950’s win? Well, sorta. Actually what they did was something so alien today that I sometimes have to convince kids (and by that I mean anyone under 40) that it was possible.

The two sides compromised.

The freeway wasn’t built. But 19th Avenue got a unique makeover of sorts. Just after the Golden Gate Bridge was built the street was widened to accommodate the greater flow of traffic heading to the bridge so it was ready to deal with the volume of traffic. But the state wanted traffic that didn’t get stopped for traffic lights and there are give or take about 25 cross streets, each with a traffic light, along the route.

The first part of the compromise was that the state had The City change the timing on the traffic lights. If you got onto 19th Avenue and maintained a 35mph pace all the way down it, you never got caught at a red light. Go too fast you have to stop. Go too slow you have to stop. Hit it just right, you zipped along without a stop. A freeway without building a freeway.

The second part of the compromise was that in order to accomplish this, the north and south bound lights had a longer than normal “green” section which of course meant that the lights for all the cross streets had longer than normal “red” sections. For the most part those living there didn’t care because they understood that sitting at a red light a bit longer was better than having a monster freeway drowning out the sun.

Don’t compromise yourself by not finishing what you started. Click below:

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Nov 06 2021
1 Comment
Adrastos, Diary, Film, Fog Of History, Music, New Orleans, Odds & Sods, Sports, Television, Twitter

Saturday Odds & Sods: Bluebird

BERJAYA

Toucan by Henri Rousseau.

It’s cold enough in New Orleans that I broke down and turned on the central heat. We’ve been making do with space heaters and extra blankets. I hate the burning dust smell when the unit is first switched on. It usually gives me a headache and it happened again. Oh well, what the hell.

Sunday is a Saints home game against the arch-rival Atlanta Falcons. A friend gave us his tickets so I’m going. It’s the first real crowd I’ve been in since the Cursed Carnival of 2020. I’m nervous but vaccines or negative COVID tests are required. The mask mandate has been lifted here but I plan to mask up like Zorro. I’ll leave the saber at home for obvious reasons. I’ll let y’all know how it goes.

This week’s featured image is a Toucan by French primitive artist Henri Rousseau. This week’s theme song is about a different bird altogether. Bluebird was written in 1967 by Stephen Stills as a follow-up single to Buffalo Springfield’s monster hit, For What It’s Worth. It was an Odds & Sods theme song last year, FWIW.

There are many swell versions of Bluebird out there. We’re showcasing four: the Buffalo Springfield original, the James Gang with Joe Walsh, Bonnie Raitt, and Los Lobos.

Now that we’ve been mesmerized by the depth of her eyes, let’s join hands and jump to the break.

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Nov 05 2021
3 Comments
Business, COVID-19, Shapiro, So Called Liberal Media, Sports, Television

Sacked On His Own Pretense

Aaron Rodgers

Did I do something wrong??!!

I’m still in a post wedding state of unaccustomed happiness. The snark will probably return next week. In the mean time this story came across my radar a couple of days ago and at least got the deeply buried snark vibe going a bit.

In the past few years my involvement with the National Football League has grown dimmer and dimmer. Can’t tell you exactly when it started, maybe when routine quarterback sacks were turned into occasions for dance recitals. My high school coach always said not to celebrate anything on the field, it makes it look like it’s the first time you did it. At any rate my passion for the game has ebbed to the point of total disinterest.

But this is America, where the NFL owns a day of the week (and is trying to buy another one) so it is hard to totally discount the organization. Like it or not you, as a member of the American public, can not help but be aware of at least some of the league’s goings on. Television networks, either those who currently show the games or those currently trying to get the rights to show the games, will make sure of that.

And so we come to what is now being referred to as the “Aaron Rodgers situation”.

For those who don’t know, Aaron Rodgers is the quarterback for the Green Bay Packers. You might better know him as an insurance pitchman or a wanna be Jeopardy host. Or you might know him as the guy who dumped Olivia Munn for Shailene Woodley, a move which, in my opinion,  makes his judgement suspect.

Wednesday he tested positive for COVID. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his positive test brought the entire NFL under a viral microscope.

You see Rodgers earlier in the year had been asked by a reporter if he had been vaccinated. His reply was that he was “immunized”. The reporter, and thus the public he was feeding information to, took that to mean Rodgers had gotten the jab. Turns out he hadn’t gotten jabbed. Instead he claimed to have gotten an “alternative treatment”, a treatment he petitioned the league to accept as the same as vaccination. To their credit (and this is likely the only time I’ll use that phrase in the context of the NFL) the league said they would not.

Yet the league allowed Rodgers to act as if he were vaccinated. Vaccinated players don’t have to wear masks on the sidelines, can be within six feet of others, and generally act the way they would have acted pre-COVID. Unvaccinated players must be COVID tested nearly daily and basically follow all procedures that were in place before the vaccines became available. Rodgers has been seen prowling the sidelines sans mask and in close contact with other players and coaches. Again, reporters all did interviews up close and personal with him while admittedly unvaccinated players did their interviews from six feet away or even over Zoom. And why not, he had told them he was “immunized”.

All of this came crashing down after his post Halloween party (where he dressed as John Wick) COVID test showed him positive. Hope Shailene enjoyed her Keanu Reeves fantasy night.

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