Leaving aside my compatriots' forgivable tendency to refer to the beautiful game as "soccer" (which is after all derived from "association football," I use it for tags here myself), most of us fundamentally don't seem to get how to write about it. This was made evident by Chris Ryan's well-meaning but naive account of the recent Champions League final on Grantland.com, an amusing contender to the sublime Run of Play's title as the best sports and culture blog around.
The first few errors aren't as toe-curlingly grievous as those who refer to the "EPL" or worse "BPL" but nonetheless a few bear mention. First, Chicharito nickname means "Little Green Pea" on account of his green eyes, not "Pea." A subtle difference but a venial since nonetheless. Second, the immigration official Ryan meets tells him he believes: "Barcelona is going to win." Fine in American English, but in the British Isles a collective noun is treated as a plural. I sniff fabulism, especially since our intrepid correspondent bothers to refer in the following paragraph to "Indian takeaways" as opposed to "take-out places" as they'd be known Stateside. Third, speaking as a current English teacher and former lawyer and journalist, I feel compelled to point out that the demonym for the people of Catalonia (or technically Catalunya) and their language is Catalan. (Though it's to Ryan's credit he distinguishes it from Spanish, or rather Castilian.)
However, it's this phrase that got my goat (and no I haven't abandoned the Arsenal and morphed into some retrograde Citeh fan yearning for the bad old days and Shaun Goater): "I'm talking about being around fans who seem to breathe in the sport, who follow their teams all over England and all over Europe, who are so passionate about their clubs, they are moved to song." Has he ever been to an actual football match or even Nevada Smith's? If I even have to explain this to you, this post will make little sense.
Friday, June 10, 2011
France Disrespects Its Hamsters
Sometimes, life imitates art. This is one of those times. Apparently the French, not content to simply use hamster as an ugly slur for insulting foreigners, have been driving the endearing little rodents of house and home. Fortunately, the European Court of Justice has seen fit to protect what The New York Times calls "a 10-inch citizen of France." Now that our little furry friend counts as a citoyen I expect the next step is for him to have his reputation protected from hateful skits like this by law, much as a somewhat larger countryman has.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Are You Serious...
Barcelona just released, or maybe I just became aware, of their jersey for the 2011-2012 season. For a club that prides itself on being more than a club and for bravely standing up to Franco's regime in opposition to a certain outfit from Madrid, the sponsorship of both Nike and the Qatar Foundation is a bit interesting. Neither exactly trips from the tongue when one thinks of human rights and the gold or yellow thread definitely isn't too subtle in suggesting the nature of their relationship with Calviola's crew is. (I was going to say "conjunto" but wanted to avoid offending the cules by using the language of Cervantes.) On the plus side, the jersey is delightfully effeminate and with those lovely stripes I think it would do nicely as a nightshirt for you... or perhaps a friend with whom you're interested in sharing a bed.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Bad Teacher
No, I don't mean the execrable movie that's soon to besmirch screens nationwide, nor do I mean the "I have tenure and I don't care" types whom education reformers try to pit against younger members of the profession. (On the pretext of caring about the students but more usually based upon attention to the bottom line.) Rather, I'm referring to the disturbing tendency I've noted among colleagues to dislike some of the core texts we teach. This baffles me.
Why I applaud anyone with a clean criminal record willing to enter the teaching profession and realize there's nothing more wonderful than working with kids and contributing to their growth, I fail to understand why people who hate literature teach English.
Why I applaud anyone with a clean criminal record willing to enter the teaching profession and realize there's nothing more wonderful than working with kids and contributing to their growth, I fail to understand why people who hate literature teach English.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Calviola
It has long been known that Josep Guadiola “Calviola” and Zinedine Zidane, also bald, have been on the Qatar FA’s payroll for quite some time under that oh so murky title of “World Cup Ambassadors”
This week’s news that the artist formerly known as Diego Maradona agreed to manage a club in the U.A.E. has returned the spotlight to this stratum of the footballing world. Back when Calviola plied his trade for a club in Qatar along with Batistuta, Effenberg, Ronald de Boer and assorted over the hill footballers nobody paid them any mind. I guess they figured what I figured, namely that they want to squeeze a couple more petrodollars out of their waning careers. Amen to that and hallelujah.
We live in a different world these days. Since Ad-Man Sep and his cronies sold the World Cup to Qatar any movement in that section of FIFA causes many a ripple. This brings us back to Maradona. He’s clearly doing this for the money. Reports say he and his crew will get thrown 5 Million USD. I’m not privy to this information, but I assume all living expenses will be taken care of. I certainly wouldn’t turn down that deal. Hell, if I found out a friend turned down such a deal, I would have him water boarded.
Maradona is getting a lot of heat in Argentina and abroad for taking the Sheikh’s money. Why aren’t Calviola and Zidane getting the same heat? They’ve surely banked more than 5 Million USD in their under the Sheikh’s tutelage. The answer to this question is that Calviola and Zidane aren’t degenerates and Diego, well, let’s just let that thought linger.
I’m convinced that the powers that be at the Qatar FA are going to keep throwing money all over the world as 2022 gets closer. That shouldn’t surprise any of us rubes. I’m frankly surprised it took Maradona this long to get in on the action. The real question is how long it will take for Maradona to get embroiled in a scandal of biblical proportions down there. Qatar isn’t exactly known for enforcing lax drug and alcohol consumption laws.
This rant was brought to you by Chori.
This week’s news that the artist formerly known as Diego Maradona agreed to manage a club in the U.A.E. has returned the spotlight to this stratum of the footballing world. Back when Calviola plied his trade for a club in Qatar along with Batistuta, Effenberg, Ronald de Boer and assorted over the hill footballers nobody paid them any mind. I guess they figured what I figured, namely that they want to squeeze a couple more petrodollars out of their waning careers. Amen to that and hallelujah.
We live in a different world these days. Since Ad-Man Sep and his cronies sold the World Cup to Qatar any movement in that section of FIFA causes many a ripple. This brings us back to Maradona. He’s clearly doing this for the money. Reports say he and his crew will get thrown 5 Million USD. I’m not privy to this information, but I assume all living expenses will be taken care of. I certainly wouldn’t turn down that deal. Hell, if I found out a friend turned down such a deal, I would have him water boarded.
Maradona is getting a lot of heat in Argentina and abroad for taking the Sheikh’s money. Why aren’t Calviola and Zidane getting the same heat? They’ve surely banked more than 5 Million USD in their under the Sheikh’s tutelage. The answer to this question is that Calviola and Zidane aren’t degenerates and Diego, well, let’s just let that thought linger.
I’m convinced that the powers that be at the Qatar FA are going to keep throwing money all over the world as 2022 gets closer. That shouldn’t surprise any of us rubes. I’m frankly surprised it took Maradona this long to get in on the action. The real question is how long it will take for Maradona to get embroiled in a scandal of biblical proportions down there. Qatar isn’t exactly known for enforcing lax drug and alcohol consumption laws.
This rant was brought to you by Chori.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
You Should Meet The Poor, They're Awfully Nice
It recently came to my attention, via this New York Time article, that most people involved in the "reform" of public schools didn't attend them. This is not the least bit surprising, illustrating as it does the relative lack of social mobility in the United States, but also the implicit suggestion that the people who make the rules (or rather their children) are necessarily those who have to live by them.
A more interesting question might be which of them actually send their progeny to the schools they're busy, "reforming" since even this unexceptionable gentleman appears unwilling to trust his children to a New York City public school that he's not managing personally. I suspect the number is that high, since even in the most elite of New York City public schools, class size are still close (or at times apparently in excess of) the contractual maximum of 34. As an educator, this is perhaps the most essential issue; no matter how smart and motivated students are, if you're teaching 5 classes with 34 students versus 4 classes of 15 students (the typical sizes for private and public schools in New York City), the amount of time you can devote to assisting them respectively will vary enormously. And as any parent, teacher, or child (or lover) would tell you, it's getting attention that matters most.
A more interesting question might be which of them actually send their progeny to the schools they're busy, "reforming" since even this unexceptionable gentleman appears unwilling to trust his children to a New York City public school that he's not managing personally. I suspect the number is that high, since even in the most elite of New York City public schools, class size are still close (or at times apparently in excess of) the contractual maximum of 34. As an educator, this is perhaps the most essential issue; no matter how smart and motivated students are, if you're teaching 5 classes with 34 students versus 4 classes of 15 students (the typical sizes for private and public schools in New York City), the amount of time you can devote to assisting them respectively will vary enormously. And as any parent, teacher, or child (or lover) would tell you, it's getting attention that matters most.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Franqui Not Tranqui
I once had a first (and last) date with a woman who claimed to support both Real Madrid and Barcelona. Such a statement is as ignorant and illogical as an Estadounidense evincing affection for both the Red Sox and Yankees would be apposite - if everyone in the world actually cared about baseball, and the teams were respectively associated with progressivism and Tea Partyism AND these loyalties were born out of a bitter Civil War followed by three and a half decades of oppression.
I'm not going to tell that whole story here when there's Phil Ball's Morbo to do the job more coherently. But suffice it to say, at least in the minds of their supporters, Real Madrid and Barcelona represent the centralizing illiberal tradition going back to Felipe II (at least) and more liberal decentralizing tendencies respectively. Of course it's really far more complex than that, since like the Yankees and Red Sox, the two sides are both more like one another than anyone else in their league, namely due to their vast resources gained both "legitimately" (via television deals that cement their duopoly) and through a dodgy web of loans that could run afoul of UEFA's much-anticipated Financial Fair Play rules.
Nevertheless, there are some differences between them, and not just because Barca has outperformed Los Merengues of late both domestically and even more so in Europe. The most compelling of these, to my mind, is that Madrid's Ultra Sur remains a cesspit of fascism, whereas Barca banned its own crazies, the Boixos Nois, a group most famously responsible for chucking a pig's head at Luis Figo. While I'm not a fan of exclusivist nationalism (if you're wondering, that's where the whole "Més que un club" line comes from, these are the same folks who'd prefer you to speak English as opposed to the language of Cervantes in Spain's second largest city), it's a damn sight better than fascism.
So while I'm not going to join a penya anytime soon, especially since Barca delights in putting my beloved Arsenal to the sword in the Champions League, not to mention making bedroom eyes towards Captain Cesc, I'd much prefer to see them win today than Mourinho's minions.
I'm not going to tell that whole story here when there's Phil Ball's Morbo to do the job more coherently. But suffice it to say, at least in the minds of their supporters, Real Madrid and Barcelona represent the centralizing illiberal tradition going back to Felipe II (at least) and more liberal decentralizing tendencies respectively. Of course it's really far more complex than that, since like the Yankees and Red Sox, the two sides are both more like one another than anyone else in their league, namely due to their vast resources gained both "legitimately" (via television deals that cement their duopoly) and through a dodgy web of loans that could run afoul of UEFA's much-anticipated Financial Fair Play rules.
Nevertheless, there are some differences between them, and not just because Barca has outperformed Los Merengues of late both domestically and even more so in Europe. The most compelling of these, to my mind, is that Madrid's Ultra Sur remains a cesspit of fascism, whereas Barca banned its own crazies, the Boixos Nois, a group most famously responsible for chucking a pig's head at Luis Figo. While I'm not a fan of exclusivist nationalism (if you're wondering, that's where the whole "Més que un club" line comes from, these are the same folks who'd prefer you to speak English as opposed to the language of Cervantes in Spain's second largest city), it's a damn sight better than fascism.
So while I'm not going to join a penya anytime soon, especially since Barca delights in putting my beloved Arsenal to the sword in the Champions League, not to mention making bedroom eyes towards Captain Cesc, I'd much prefer to see them win today than Mourinho's minions.
Monday, April 18, 2011
IPL vs. Test Cricket
I’ve been playing cricket for 17 years, yet explaining the game consistently turns into a difficult endeavor. Explaining the differences between my beloved IPL and the stodgy world of test cricket is quite simple. For you basketball lovers, test cricket is the NBA before the 3-point line was introduced. This is the clearest sports analogy I can dig out of my brain on a Monday morning.
The philosophical differences are as clear as the Caribbean water. Since an IPL match only lasts 20 overs (for each side), said side must obtain the highest amount of runs during their 20 overs. A test match does not last 20 overs – it can go on for as long as 5 days; hence patience is rewarded in test cricket. In the IPL patience it is spat upon, which is exactly why the IPL has become a 1 billion USD plus business and Test Cricket has been steadily losing fans and money over the years. The IPL is full of exciting plays (boundaries, run-outs, mid-wicket incidents, etc.). I would rather watch golf as opposed to test cricket and the only time I spend on a golf course I’m quite certainly intoxicated.
One must highlight 2 additional factors for the IPL’s exorbitant success. IPL stands for “India Premier League”. You’ve probably figured out by now that the league is based and held in India most of the time – a couple years back the IPL had to hightail it to South Africa for one season due to security concerns. Compare the fans in the Indian Peninsula and the West Indies to any other fans and you’ll see why players love plying their trade in such outposts as Rajastan. To say that Indians are enthusiastic about their cricket is about as mild an understatement as saying that Rush Limbaugh likes to talk in the mornings.
The last factor that explains the IPL’s superiority is a very, very American one indeed: money. Pure, glowing, unaduletered cheese. Some IPL players make 1 million USD for 6 weeks work. The greenbacks have attracted the World’s best players, who make this the best cricket I’ve ever seen.
I’ve never seen an IPL match or anything remotely related to it on the telly. I get my IPL fix from their own private youtube channel. The production value is so high that they fly a Spidey-Cam over the field NFL style.
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
The philosophical differences are as clear as the Caribbean water. Since an IPL match only lasts 20 overs (for each side), said side must obtain the highest amount of runs during their 20 overs. A test match does not last 20 overs – it can go on for as long as 5 days; hence patience is rewarded in test cricket. In the IPL patience it is spat upon, which is exactly why the IPL has become a 1 billion USD plus business and Test Cricket has been steadily losing fans and money over the years. The IPL is full of exciting plays (boundaries, run-outs, mid-wicket incidents, etc.). I would rather watch golf as opposed to test cricket and the only time I spend on a golf course I’m quite certainly intoxicated.
One must highlight 2 additional factors for the IPL’s exorbitant success. IPL stands for “India Premier League”. You’ve probably figured out by now that the league is based and held in India most of the time – a couple years back the IPL had to hightail it to South Africa for one season due to security concerns. Compare the fans in the Indian Peninsula and the West Indies to any other fans and you’ll see why players love plying their trade in such outposts as Rajastan. To say that Indians are enthusiastic about their cricket is about as mild an understatement as saying that Rush Limbaugh likes to talk in the mornings.
The last factor that explains the IPL’s superiority is a very, very American one indeed: money. Pure, glowing, unaduletered cheese. Some IPL players make 1 million USD for 6 weeks work. The greenbacks have attracted the World’s best players, who make this the best cricket I’ve ever seen.
I’ve never seen an IPL match or anything remotely related to it on the telly. I get my IPL fix from their own private youtube channel. The production value is so high that they fly a Spidey-Cam over the field NFL style.
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Gifts From Google Ads
An ex of mine used to refer to Google Ads "pooping things up." It's stuck with me, since sometimes these ads, unobtrusive as they may be, feel a little like birdshit on your shirt. Kind of like when Facebook's lack of an irony detector suggests I like crazed right-wingers or football teams I despise.
Anyway, today regalo de armadillo was an ad for high end laundry. Their story is priceless, or maybe it's just my sense of humor.
Anyway, today regalo de armadillo was an ad for high end laundry. Their story is priceless, or maybe it's just my sense of humor.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Mike Ashley=USA
It was long ago established that this blog and especially this column would veer far, far away from all things political. Why is that you ask? I have no clue I answer – I was told to stay away from politics and that’s what I’ve done.
As I observe from afar the mess that is going down in North Africa, I can’t help but notice how similar the US government is to the esteemed gentleman who made a killing in the gaming business better known as Mike Ashley. I bet you never thought you’d read a comparison of Mike Ashley and the boys who run the stars and stripes. Neither did I for that matter.
The way Mike Ashley runs (or doesn’t) Newcastle is very similar to the way the US government conducts itself in North Africa. They’re hands on, they’re hands off. They dole out cheese, they cut off the cheese. They let the proverbial bad guys misbehave, they punish said upstanding individuals.
Talk to any former North-African bureaucrat that’s done business with the US government and he’ll tell you pretty much the same thing that former Newcastle front office employees express about Sir Ashley: “I just want to listen to Mariah Carey and Beyonce and make it live."
How dare I make light of the fact that one of Qaddafi’s dozen sons decided to pay Mariah a burning hot one million greenbacks? That certainly crossed my mind, but everybody knows that Geordies have long been enamored with Mariah Carey. Why that is I can’t answer. Ask Qaddafi.
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
As I observe from afar the mess that is going down in North Africa, I can’t help but notice how similar the US government is to the esteemed gentleman who made a killing in the gaming business better known as Mike Ashley. I bet you never thought you’d read a comparison of Mike Ashley and the boys who run the stars and stripes. Neither did I for that matter.
The way Mike Ashley runs (or doesn’t) Newcastle is very similar to the way the US government conducts itself in North Africa. They’re hands on, they’re hands off. They dole out cheese, they cut off the cheese. They let the proverbial bad guys misbehave, they punish said upstanding individuals.
Talk to any former North-African bureaucrat that’s done business with the US government and he’ll tell you pretty much the same thing that former Newcastle front office employees express about Sir Ashley: “I just want to listen to Mariah Carey and Beyonce and make it live."
How dare I make light of the fact that one of Qaddafi’s dozen sons decided to pay Mariah a burning hot one million greenbacks? That certainly crossed my mind, but everybody knows that Geordies have long been enamored with Mariah Carey. Why that is I can’t answer. Ask Qaddafi.
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Agony of Defeat
I've loyally watched the Arsenal win, lose, and draw over decades and continents and while this doesn't rank amongst the biggest disappointments, it hurts nonetheless. Although only Jack Wilshere appeared truly perturbed. The Carling Cup would have been Arsenal's first trophy in six years, albeit a minor one. Watching Birmingham City celebrate, I had the sense it meant more to them. And for a true neutral I thus understand the result might have been pleasant. As my dear friend with whom I watched the match (and who supports Manchester United) put it, "sorry bro." Indeed.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Torcidas and Barras Bravas
Recent events in Brazil involving Ronaldo and Roberto Carlos combined with past events involving Carlos Tevez have once more brought to light the ever-prevalent issue of hooliganism in South America. As I read about these incidents and happened to catch the fine documentary “Futbol Violencia, S.A.” on the tube, I’ve been wondering why hooliganism is still so rampant in Brazil and Argentina.
By the time the Argentine National team touched down in South Africa for the musical/drama better known as their World Cup performance everybody and their pet knew that a collection of Barra Bravas was sharing air space with them. At his first press conference the King of Santa’s dandruff was asked if he knew they were on the plane. Maradona promptly engaged in a very lame attempt at spin, which only turned the story into a worldwide one for a couple of days.
Last week Roberto Carlos and Ronaldo (Corinthians players) were both attacked by their own Torcida after a dismal performance. We’re talking about the left back who holds the record for most games played in a Real Madrid uniform as well as the World Cup Record Holder when it comes to putting the ball into the net. These are no chumps. These folks are revered the world over. Roberto Carlos is now close to either playing next to LAX or somewhere in Serbia and Ronaldo has officially retired. What gives sayeth thee?
The easy psychobabble analysis would amount to saying that the countries are so footy-mad that the fans just can’t help themselves. Others blame the local authorities. Others point to the fact that Barra Bravas are so influential in getting Club Presidents elected (Aguilar at River Plate, etc.) that they then get carte blanche to basically hustle whatever (tickets, parking, etc.) their heart tells them to. The name currently escapes me, but a former Barra Brava once rose to lead a first division club in Argentina. That’s enough to blow a pilgrim’s mind. Who knows what’s going on?
The issue is certainly more prevalent in Argentina, but Brazil isn’t that far behind. During these times the capitalist in me wakes up and slams his fist into my groin area. The solution is quite simple says he. Hike up ticket prices so that only the rich can enter the stadium, then have the millionaires pay for fake Barra Bravas. This policy can be instituted in time for Brazil 2014.
The clock is ticking.
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
By the time the Argentine National team touched down in South Africa for the musical/drama better known as their World Cup performance everybody and their pet knew that a collection of Barra Bravas was sharing air space with them. At his first press conference the King of Santa’s dandruff was asked if he knew they were on the plane. Maradona promptly engaged in a very lame attempt at spin, which only turned the story into a worldwide one for a couple of days.
Last week Roberto Carlos and Ronaldo (Corinthians players) were both attacked by their own Torcida after a dismal performance. We’re talking about the left back who holds the record for most games played in a Real Madrid uniform as well as the World Cup Record Holder when it comes to putting the ball into the net. These are no chumps. These folks are revered the world over. Roberto Carlos is now close to either playing next to LAX or somewhere in Serbia and Ronaldo has officially retired. What gives sayeth thee?
The easy psychobabble analysis would amount to saying that the countries are so footy-mad that the fans just can’t help themselves. Others blame the local authorities. Others point to the fact that Barra Bravas are so influential in getting Club Presidents elected (Aguilar at River Plate, etc.) that they then get carte blanche to basically hustle whatever (tickets, parking, etc.) their heart tells them to. The name currently escapes me, but a former Barra Brava once rose to lead a first division club in Argentina. That’s enough to blow a pilgrim’s mind. Who knows what’s going on?
The issue is certainly more prevalent in Argentina, but Brazil isn’t that far behind. During these times the capitalist in me wakes up and slams his fist into my groin area. The solution is quite simple says he. Hike up ticket prices so that only the rich can enter the stadium, then have the millionaires pay for fake Barra Bravas. This policy can be instituted in time for Brazil 2014.
The clock is ticking.
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Flippin' 'Eck
This Saturday, like most, began quite pleasantly in the wonderful life I'm privileged to lead, especially since I started the morning teaching Spanish. The highlight was educating my adult student some choice expressions I won't share here but that you find in this delightful little book.
Suffice it to say they came in handy once I discovered my beloved Arsenal had squandered 3/4 of a four goal lead to Newcastle I was nervous, which turned into horror when the last of it disintegrated, turning one point into three. Strangely, Manchester United managed to do Arsenal one worse by losing to Wolves. Yes, they were so deeply located in first and last that they remained in these positions even after the result. Still Steve Bull must be proud...
Suffice it to say they came in handy once I discovered my beloved Arsenal had squandered 3/4 of a four goal lead to Newcastle I was nervous, which turned into horror when the last of it disintegrated, turning one point into three. Strangely, Manchester United managed to do Arsenal one worse by losing to Wolves. Yes, they were so deeply located in first and last that they remained in these positions even after the result. Still Steve Bull must be proud...
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Where's The Love for "I Am Love"?
Our faithful film industry correspondent CHORI laments the Academy's latest dubious omission...
That weird looking statuette mocked as Oscar is on its way from wherever it’s safely stored to the Kodak Theater or wherever the shenanigans will be hosted this year. One can agree or disagree regarding many Oscar selections; however one thing is above all irrefutable. The absence of “I Am Love” starring Tilda Swinton and directed by Luca Guadagnino at the Oscar get-together is a travesty.
The powers that be in Oscarland transfer the blame of this absence to Italy – the country that should have submitted “I am love”. I transfer the blame to nobody. All I know is that this fine piece of filmmaking absolutely had to be present on that fateful Sunday afternoon.
Seldom have I heard so many heterosexual males comment on the merit of a movie’s wardrobe. Breathtaking locations, Hitchcock inspired foot chases, oral sex in the bushes, debaucherous parties in a Milanese Villa, gorgeous Italian men and women, rampant adultery, mouthwatering food prepared by a 5-star Chef, Tilda Swinton speaking Italian with a Russian infused accent – this tale has it all. I certainly couldn’t ask for more.
What more must Luca and Tilda do? What more can they do? It took them all of ten years to wrangle the financing for this fine piece of work. Will Oscar give them their just do in another ten years time?
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
That weird looking statuette mocked as Oscar is on its way from wherever it’s safely stored to the Kodak Theater or wherever the shenanigans will be hosted this year. One can agree or disagree regarding many Oscar selections; however one thing is above all irrefutable. The absence of “I Am Love” starring Tilda Swinton and directed by Luca Guadagnino at the Oscar get-together is a travesty.
The powers that be in Oscarland transfer the blame of this absence to Italy – the country that should have submitted “I am love”. I transfer the blame to nobody. All I know is that this fine piece of filmmaking absolutely had to be present on that fateful Sunday afternoon.
Seldom have I heard so many heterosexual males comment on the merit of a movie’s wardrobe. Breathtaking locations, Hitchcock inspired foot chases, oral sex in the bushes, debaucherous parties in a Milanese Villa, gorgeous Italian men and women, rampant adultery, mouthwatering food prepared by a 5-star Chef, Tilda Swinton speaking Italian with a Russian infused accent – this tale has it all. I certainly couldn’t ask for more.
What more must Luca and Tilda do? What more can they do? It took them all of ten years to wrangle the financing for this fine piece of work. Will Oscar give them their just do in another ten years time?
This rant was brought to you degenerates by:
CHORI
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
And We're Back
Due to travel, illness, and the start of a new semester, even our contributors were wondering where this blog had gone. But never fear. We're back. And before you get upset, just remember what the Tico Turtle says!
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