Al-Jimzeera Talking Points
* Possible invention: a breakfast cereal made of pretzels?
* Will people really pay $2 to watch Jay Leno on their iPods? Survey Says XXX.
* Perhaps the Mets useless 2b Kaz Matsui could be sent to a CIA "black site" for the remainder of his contract?
* The woman behind us at SYRIANA actually said this with a few minutes to go in the film: "I guess they're going to get their 77 virgins." It's very good: as close as Hollywood is ever going to get--with some farts (suspension of disbelief moment: CIA officers care about people?) Great update of Gordon Gecko's famous "Greed is Good" speech and some crisp Glen Gary Glen Ross exchanges. But we probably should have snuck into the secret KING KONG screening they were having at Lincoln Center: pat-downs, metal detectors, everybody's bags and pockets emptied out into grocery bags. Keep watching the blankets. Who wants to go at opening midnight?
* RHP Burnett is a very nice pick-up for the Blue Jays. I'm looking forward to them being a team again for the first time in a decade. I don't think B. J. Ryan and A. J. Burnett are worth that kind of money (Maybe both deals are in Canadian dollars. Hope those agents checked into that) but anyone getting better in the East is a plus: better games in the Bronx & Fenway, always a good thing. If Halliday stays healthy, who knows, they're in the mix.
* If coffee is good at undoing liver damage then I shall live forever.
* Friendster has replaced its frontpage "Who's Viewed Me" feature and replaced it with an ad. It was the funnest thing about Friendster, I'm sorry to say (playing with Friendster is a little like taking out your old Coleco and ripping a good game of Pong). It was fun there a few years ago, now it's just ugh. Mousy girls taking photos of their cats and feet. Horny boys like me. Who needs it?
* The Knicks corner the market on useless 3 guards starting with the letter Q (as in Quitter or Quagmire): Qyntel Woods signed.
* Angry anti-war protestors are set to hound Hillary (Yes, I get all my news from the Drudge Report). Isn't that about as useful as the anti-abortionists picketing the pope for not being hard-core enough? You know: wink, wink. She's on your side. Her lips are moving but what she really thinks is coming out of the mouth of Howard Dean. McCain's going to be the next president unless they Wellstone him, so you can swiftboat Rodham-Clinton as much as you want. Have a blast. Cindy Sheehan isn't lasting this news cycle and the real culture war starts Friday with the Gay Cowboy Movie on its way to Oscar. Two issues that are framing the American debate or not: Whether Christmas is Christmas and are you looking at my ass?
* Why pretend I want the same things as anybody else? I don't. I don't want to get married, don't want to have a bunch of kids and live in Connecticut. Don't dream about accumulating books, grants, interviews, graduation speeches, Volvos. I don't want to be "in a relationship" in the corporate two-car America kind of way (Might even dump you before Christmas and Valentine's Day). Anything not fun for me for five minutes is immediately abandoned. I just want to say it and understand it and have the people in the dark seats of whatever audience is out there hear it. There's no need to hook me up with someone you think is cute (there's no way they'll understand *all* *this*, now is there?) I probably don't want to talk about poetry with you. I don't need you to think I'm smart or funny or good. I don't want you to compliment me, I probably won't compliment you unless I'm feeling particularly awkward and at a loss for things to say. In person, I'm happy to say hi and make small talk in passing. To drive-by flirt. I don't want to score points with you, just satisfy my inner need to say hi or bye on my way. I can't think of anything I want from anybody except *sparks*. Just to thrill me for a minute, suprise me a little. It's a shock to find out other people can be somewhat interesting (especially because I've been sober for so long, it used to be so easy, 12 Pabst Blue Ribbons = instant fascinating good times you don't have to be burdened with the memory of). Now I remember everything and yes I am trying to scare you off so that if you stay with me you'll know. Only connect: save the bullshit act for somebody who likes that kinda shit. I am impossible to be flattered, I am rarely impressed or starstruck, I don't think anyone has ever flirted with me *in my life* and I am just trying to get through this world without you owing me anything and me owing you anything. And if you still wanna march up to me and plant a big one right on my lips, well aw yeah. I could outschmooze and outpoem pretty much anyone out there, if I wanted to. That's why I can't stand when poets act like assholes. When I act like an asshole however it's really, really funny to me.
* The baseball World Championships will be terrific (Congratulating the Dominican Republic for winning already). Until someone blows a hammy, that is. And if the Indians get Trevor Hoffman, wow. They will be good--a great race in the AL Central, too.
* Will people really pay $2 to watch Jay Leno on their iPods? Survey Says XXX.
* Perhaps the Mets useless 2b Kaz Matsui could be sent to a CIA "black site" for the remainder of his contract?
* The woman behind us at SYRIANA actually said this with a few minutes to go in the film: "I guess they're going to get their 77 virgins." It's very good: as close as Hollywood is ever going to get--with some farts (suspension of disbelief moment: CIA officers care about people?) Great update of Gordon Gecko's famous "Greed is Good" speech and some crisp Glen Gary Glen Ross exchanges. But we probably should have snuck into the secret KING KONG screening they were having at Lincoln Center: pat-downs, metal detectors, everybody's bags and pockets emptied out into grocery bags. Keep watching the blankets. Who wants to go at opening midnight?
* RHP Burnett is a very nice pick-up for the Blue Jays. I'm looking forward to them being a team again for the first time in a decade. I don't think B. J. Ryan and A. J. Burnett are worth that kind of money (Maybe both deals are in Canadian dollars. Hope those agents checked into that) but anyone getting better in the East is a plus: better games in the Bronx & Fenway, always a good thing. If Halliday stays healthy, who knows, they're in the mix.
* If coffee is good at undoing liver damage then I shall live forever.
* Friendster has replaced its frontpage "Who's Viewed Me" feature and replaced it with an ad. It was the funnest thing about Friendster, I'm sorry to say (playing with Friendster is a little like taking out your old Coleco and ripping a good game of Pong). It was fun there a few years ago, now it's just ugh. Mousy girls taking photos of their cats and feet. Horny boys like me. Who needs it?
* The Knicks corner the market on useless 3 guards starting with the letter Q (as in Quitter or Quagmire): Qyntel Woods signed.
* Angry anti-war protestors are set to hound Hillary (Yes, I get all my news from the Drudge Report). Isn't that about as useful as the anti-abortionists picketing the pope for not being hard-core enough? You know: wink, wink. She's on your side. Her lips are moving but what she really thinks is coming out of the mouth of Howard Dean. McCain's going to be the next president unless they Wellstone him, so you can swiftboat Rodham-Clinton as much as you want. Have a blast. Cindy Sheehan isn't lasting this news cycle and the real culture war starts Friday with the Gay Cowboy Movie on its way to Oscar. Two issues that are framing the American debate or not: Whether Christmas is Christmas and are you looking at my ass?
* Why pretend I want the same things as anybody else? I don't. I don't want to get married, don't want to have a bunch of kids and live in Connecticut. Don't dream about accumulating books, grants, interviews, graduation speeches, Volvos. I don't want to be "in a relationship" in the corporate two-car America kind of way (Might even dump you before Christmas and Valentine's Day). Anything not fun for me for five minutes is immediately abandoned. I just want to say it and understand it and have the people in the dark seats of whatever audience is out there hear it. There's no need to hook me up with someone you think is cute (there's no way they'll understand *all* *this*, now is there?) I probably don't want to talk about poetry with you. I don't need you to think I'm smart or funny or good. I don't want you to compliment me, I probably won't compliment you unless I'm feeling particularly awkward and at a loss for things to say. In person, I'm happy to say hi and make small talk in passing. To drive-by flirt. I don't want to score points with you, just satisfy my inner need to say hi or bye on my way. I can't think of anything I want from anybody except *sparks*. Just to thrill me for a minute, suprise me a little. It's a shock to find out other people can be somewhat interesting (especially because I've been sober for so long, it used to be so easy, 12 Pabst Blue Ribbons = instant fascinating good times you don't have to be burdened with the memory of). Now I remember everything and yes I am trying to scare you off so that if you stay with me you'll know. Only connect: save the bullshit act for somebody who likes that kinda shit. I am impossible to be flattered, I am rarely impressed or starstruck, I don't think anyone has ever flirted with me *in my life* and I am just trying to get through this world without you owing me anything and me owing you anything. And if you still wanna march up to me and plant a big one right on my lips, well aw yeah. I could outschmooze and outpoem pretty much anyone out there, if I wanted to. That's why I can't stand when poets act like assholes. When I act like an asshole however it's really, really funny to me.
* The baseball World Championships will be terrific (Congratulating the Dominican Republic for winning already). Until someone blows a hammy, that is. And if the Indians get Trevor Hoffman, wow. They will be good--a great race in the AL Central, too.
posted by Jim Behrle at 16:55
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