I realize why I like Edward so much - he's totally messing with Bella.
Forks High School's Sadie Hawkins dance is coming up, and Bella gets asked out by two different guys. Yes, you heard that right. Despite being the clumsiest girl alive, guys can't stop thinking about her. Bella doesn't have much of an ego, though, so she's annoyed by all the attention. These wannabe Romeos are fairly pathetic, too, and I'd be tempted to sympathize with her if it hadn't already been established that her vagina was an exact replica of the Sarlaac from Return of the Jedi.
The fawning gets so bad that Bella decides to give a plausible excuse for dodging her suitors. She's been cooped up in a small town for so long, so she's due for a trip to Seattle the weekend of the dance.
There's one guy in the whole of Forks who isn't nipping at her heels, and that's Edward. He might have saved her life, but that doesn't mean they're besties. He gives her the silent treatment during Biology, breaking it later to tell her that "it's better if we're not friends." Bella is none too happy: "I'd heard that before," she thinks to herself, probably because she's used to saying it. Then Edward pulls a truly devious stunt after school, intentionally holding up traffic in the parking lot so a third guy can ask Bella to the girls' choice dance.
Even better: after he fesses up about his shenanigans, he offers Bella a ride to Seattle. His sports car gets better milage than her truck, and he was planning to head up there anyway, so why not be a gentleman. Bella's feeble mind can barely function at this point, since the hottest guy in human history is playing hard-to-get with her, but she manages to acquiesce. Oh, Edward, you cad.
Chapter 4 is a good opportunity to go meta for a second. Stephenie Meyer is frequently criticized for making Bella a Mary Sue. For those of you who are unfamiliar with fan fiction terminology (lucky bastards with social lives), a Mary Sue is an author surrogate who is suspiciously idealized/romanticized. Meyer is neither a stunner nor unattractive, but assuming that she went through one of those typical childhood awkward phases, why wouldn't she want to write a character who rejects every guy in school that asks her to a dance? More to follow, I'm sure.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Top Chef Las Vegas 11/11
First, let me acknowledge how stupid and useless last week's Top Chef reunion dinner was.
And now for this week's episode. Two words: Nigella Lawson. It's a good thing Toby was judging this week and not Gail, because if you put her and Nigella in the same room there'd be a souffle rising in my pants (HEY-O!). I'd never even heard of Nigella before this week.
(Googles her to check her credentials)
(notices that "Nigella Lawson breasts" is the second thing that comes up on Google's auto fill-in feature)
(no, I didn't select that option)
(discovers pictures on Google Image Search)
Ho-leeeee shit.
She's Gorgeous McBaberson. AND she says that a pannacotta "should quiver like a 17th century courtesan's inner thigh." That's the hottest thing that's been said on television, like, ever.
I'm sorry. I lost focus. There was actual cooking on this show, and quite a bit of controversy in my mind, because I think that not only should Michael not have won, Robin should not have gone home.
Yeah, you heard me.
Let's backtrack a little. The gimmick of the elimination challenge was that the cheftestants were supposed to create a dish inspired by a randomly-chosen casino. Michael got New York, New York. Easy enough, right? New York City evokes so many images, feelings, and flavors, that of course he'd come up with... a chicken wing. Because that's what New York firefighters eat. Seriously, his words. Of course, it's how the dish tastes that really counts, and it very well could have been the tastiest one of the night. I still think he half-assed the concept. Kevin and Bryan made much better connections between their food and their respective casinos.
Incidentally, I cannot be the only person who thought Bryan was a goner once he bought that stuffed animal for his son. The editors, it seems, are wising up to what we look for.
Now let's move onto the bottom half. At first I thought Jennifer was destined to be PYKAG'd. Her steak was tough and the dish looked very dark brown and unappealing. After hearing the judges pillory Eli's dish, I thought he was a lock for being sent home. Toby's appraisal during the challenge indicated that Eli decided to go big or go home and although his dish was a failure they respected that he at least aspired for something. During judges table, however, he got brutalized. Fair enough, if it was a terrible dish it was a terrible dish. Robin, at first, appeared to turn in another classic Robin performance - unquestionably bad, but not the worst dish of the night. Like Eli, she reached for the stars got hit by a 747, but wasn't quite as bad as he was. She got the boot anyway.
We all knew that Robin's exit was weeks overdue. But I still think she got robbed. To hear the judges say it, Eli's dish was hands-down the worst of the night. But Robin is Robin, so away she goes. I'll be the first to admit that I'm crazy for defending her, but you can sense the producers' interference in the judging of this episode to a ridiculous extent. Maybe I'm in a contrarian mood because Michael got the win for a conceptually lazy dish.
Power rankings? Not anymore, folks. There are five very good chefs left. Eli's laid a few eggs, and Jennifer is nose-diving, but it's a strong bunch all things considered. Kevin and the Brothers V make it to the final cook-off, and you can put that in the bank.
And now for this week's episode. Two words: Nigella Lawson. It's a good thing Toby was judging this week and not Gail, because if you put her and Nigella in the same room there'd be a souffle rising in my pants (HEY-O!). I'd never even heard of Nigella before this week.
(Googles her to check her credentials)
(notices that "Nigella Lawson breasts" is the second thing that comes up on Google's auto fill-in feature)
(no, I didn't select that option)
(discovers pictures on Google Image Search)
Ho-leeeee shit.
She's Gorgeous McBaberson. AND she says that a pannacotta "should quiver like a 17th century courtesan's inner thigh." That's the hottest thing that's been said on television, like, ever.
I'm sorry. I lost focus. There was actual cooking on this show, and quite a bit of controversy in my mind, because I think that not only should Michael not have won, Robin should not have gone home.
Yeah, you heard me.
Let's backtrack a little. The gimmick of the elimination challenge was that the cheftestants were supposed to create a dish inspired by a randomly-chosen casino. Michael got New York, New York. Easy enough, right? New York City evokes so many images, feelings, and flavors, that of course he'd come up with... a chicken wing. Because that's what New York firefighters eat. Seriously, his words. Of course, it's how the dish tastes that really counts, and it very well could have been the tastiest one of the night. I still think he half-assed the concept. Kevin and Bryan made much better connections between their food and their respective casinos.
Incidentally, I cannot be the only person who thought Bryan was a goner once he bought that stuffed animal for his son. The editors, it seems, are wising up to what we look for.
Now let's move onto the bottom half. At first I thought Jennifer was destined to be PYKAG'd. Her steak was tough and the dish looked very dark brown and unappealing. After hearing the judges pillory Eli's dish, I thought he was a lock for being sent home. Toby's appraisal during the challenge indicated that Eli decided to go big or go home and although his dish was a failure they respected that he at least aspired for something. During judges table, however, he got brutalized. Fair enough, if it was a terrible dish it was a terrible dish. Robin, at first, appeared to turn in another classic Robin performance - unquestionably bad, but not the worst dish of the night. Like Eli, she reached for the stars got hit by a 747, but wasn't quite as bad as he was. She got the boot anyway.
We all knew that Robin's exit was weeks overdue. But I still think she got robbed. To hear the judges say it, Eli's dish was hands-down the worst of the night. But Robin is Robin, so away she goes. I'll be the first to admit that I'm crazy for defending her, but you can sense the producers' interference in the judging of this episode to a ridiculous extent. Maybe I'm in a contrarian mood because Michael got the win for a conceptually lazy dish.
Power rankings? Not anymore, folks. There are five very good chefs left. Eli's laid a few eggs, and Jennifer is nose-diving, but it's a strong bunch all things considered. Kevin and the Brothers V make it to the final cook-off, and you can put that in the bank.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Wait, what?
Andy Cohen is openly gay?
I'm no gayologist. My gaydar is fully functional, yet occasionally spotty.
It's a proven fact that Mr. Cohen is a douchebag. Up to this moment, I had been convinced that every douchebag in the history of douchebags had been straight. In fact, it's almost a prerequisite - see the following video for proof:
So I pose this question to you, dear reader: with the exception of Andy Cohen, is it impossible for a gay man to be a douchebag?
I'm no gayologist. My gaydar is fully functional, yet occasionally spotty.
It's a proven fact that Mr. Cohen is a douchebag. Up to this moment, I had been convinced that every douchebag in the history of douchebags had been straight. In fact, it's almost a prerequisite - see the following video for proof:
So I pose this question to you, dear reader: with the exception of Andy Cohen, is it impossible for a gay man to be a douchebag?
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapters 2-3
The Bella Swan Queen Bitch Tour picks up right where it left off, as our fair lady writes emails to her hysterical mother, shops for groceries, and cooks dinner because she's the only capable member of the family. Edward, on the other hand, is nowhere to be seen for several days.
Then comes the first snow of the season, and it soon becomes fairly obvious that Stephenie Meyer has never seen snow in her life because a class period's worth of flurries is evidently enough to form snowballs. Plans are made for an epic snowball fight (nobody at this high school has matured past kindergarten, apparently) but soon abandoned once the temperature rises and the snow is washed away by the rain. I live in Chicago. I know snow. SNOW DOES NOT WORK THIS WAY.
Fortunately, this completely useless diversion coincides with Edward's return to school. To Bella's surprise, he's much friendlier to her during Biology. He's even as smart as she is, and she took an advanced science class back home in Phoenix because she's better than everybody else. And here's the real kicker - I kind of like Edward. Granted, anyone would come off like Jimmy Stewart after having to put up with Bella. But Edward is perceptive, in control during any situation, thoughtful, and well-mannered. I don't know how Robert Pattinson plays the scene in the movie, since he usually comes off as Gloomy McBrooderson, but Edward as written is one suave guy.
I'd like him a lot more if it wasn't constantly smashed into my skull that's he's so damn perfect. It's not enough that he looks like a model. Every physical thing about him is flawless. It would be enough for most attractive male specimens to have a perfect face, but Edward has a perfect smile - oh why the hell not, let's make his teeth perfect too. Curt Hening wasn't this perfect.
It's especially clear that Edward has warmed on Bella when he saves her from being hit by a van in the school parking lot, despite being nowhere near her when it barrels toward her. And his body makes a dent in it but he's not hurt. And he lifts the van up to keep it from hitting Bella. Of course he denies that anything out of the ordinary happened, insisting he was next to her the entire time.
But even when Bella's mind is consumed with suspicion it's not enough to raise the temperature of her heart past absolute zero. That guy who almost killed her keeps on profusely apologizing - what a dweeb. All of her friends that she doesn't give two shits about are in the hospital waiting room because they're so lame. That neck brace looks awkward on her, so she takes it off. And did her father really have to tell her mom that she almost died? Totally embarrassing!
We end the third chapter with Bella taking a few Tylenol to soothe her injuries. Unfortunately, instead of grabbing ten more and washing them down with a fifth of Jack, she goes to sleep and dreams of Edward. Drat.
Then comes the first snow of the season, and it soon becomes fairly obvious that Stephenie Meyer has never seen snow in her life because a class period's worth of flurries is evidently enough to form snowballs. Plans are made for an epic snowball fight (nobody at this high school has matured past kindergarten, apparently) but soon abandoned once the temperature rises and the snow is washed away by the rain. I live in Chicago. I know snow. SNOW DOES NOT WORK THIS WAY.
Fortunately, this completely useless diversion coincides with Edward's return to school. To Bella's surprise, he's much friendlier to her during Biology. He's even as smart as she is, and she took an advanced science class back home in Phoenix because she's better than everybody else. And here's the real kicker - I kind of like Edward. Granted, anyone would come off like Jimmy Stewart after having to put up with Bella. But Edward is perceptive, in control during any situation, thoughtful, and well-mannered. I don't know how Robert Pattinson plays the scene in the movie, since he usually comes off as Gloomy McBrooderson, but Edward as written is one suave guy.
I'd like him a lot more if it wasn't constantly smashed into my skull that's he's so damn perfect. It's not enough that he looks like a model. Every physical thing about him is flawless. It would be enough for most attractive male specimens to have a perfect face, but Edward has a perfect smile - oh why the hell not, let's make his teeth perfect too. Curt Hening wasn't this perfect.
It's especially clear that Edward has warmed on Bella when he saves her from being hit by a van in the school parking lot, despite being nowhere near her when it barrels toward her. And his body makes a dent in it but he's not hurt. And he lifts the van up to keep it from hitting Bella. Of course he denies that anything out of the ordinary happened, insisting he was next to her the entire time.
But even when Bella's mind is consumed with suspicion it's not enough to raise the temperature of her heart past absolute zero. That guy who almost killed her keeps on profusely apologizing - what a dweeb. All of her friends that she doesn't give two shits about are in the hospital waiting room because they're so lame. That neck brace looks awkward on her, so she takes it off. And did her father really have to tell her mom that she almost died? Totally embarrassing!
We end the third chapter with Bella taking a few Tylenol to soothe her injuries. Unfortunately, instead of grabbing ten more and washing them down with a fifth of Jack, she goes to sleep and dreams of Edward. Drat.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter One
Bella Swan is a bitch.
She's our heroine, our narrator, our emotional core in a world of vampires, and I hated her by page 7.
Maybe I don't do well with irascible youngsters as the first-person narrator - when I read Catcher in the Rye in high school I wanted to punch Holden Caulfield in the face. But Bella's problems are much lesser than a world full of phonies. Her parents divorced when she was young, and after living in Phoenix with her mother (who is "scatterbrained") during her formative years, she's spending high school tenure with her father in gloomy Forks, WA (Bella's "personal hell on Earth"). Charlie's not a bad guy, though. Sure, her new ride is an decades-old pickup truck, but he got it for her as a welcome home present. Whatcha think, Bella?
"Wow. Free."
Oh, you cunt.
So she warms on the car later. She's young, she's from a broken home, maybe she'll turn out okay eventually. Then comes the first day of school. Having been there myself, I can say that the first day at a new school sucks. It's the definition of awkward. You do your best to find some allies in the other new kids and hope that everything turns out for the best. It's even worse in a small town like Forks, where everybody knows everybody and a newcomer sticks out like a sore thumb. All eyes are on her, although in Bella's mind it's not just because she's the new girl; she's clearly superior to the small town hicks. She's desperate not to stand out, but everyone gravitates towards her nonetheless. She gets the syllabus for her English class and she's read it all before. Twice she associates bravery with those who attempt to talk to her. Girls try to befriend her but she can't remember their names. As far as the eligible bachelors of Forks go, the nerdy guy who tries to help her through her first day she labels "overly helpful." The more attractive one who helps her, however, is "the nicest person I'd met today." But then comes Edward.
He and his vampire buddies sit together at lunch, away from the great unwashed. Bella's instantly drawn to them - and why not? They're ridiculously attractive, well-dressed, and graceful. They're equally aloof, which doesn't fare well for Bella when the only free seat in her biology class is next to him. He looks like he wants to kill her the entire time, for reasons she can't fathom. When the bell rings, he bolts. "He was so mean. It wasn't fair." Poetic justice, it seems, is lost on her.
As far as first impressions of Stephenie Meyer's much bemoaned writing style, it's pretty clumsy in that easily accessible Dan Brown way but rarely terrible. It could be intentional; after all, the narrator is a teenage girl. So no demerits... yet.
She's our heroine, our narrator, our emotional core in a world of vampires, and I hated her by page 7.
Maybe I don't do well with irascible youngsters as the first-person narrator - when I read Catcher in the Rye in high school I wanted to punch Holden Caulfield in the face. But Bella's problems are much lesser than a world full of phonies. Her parents divorced when she was young, and after living in Phoenix with her mother (who is "scatterbrained") during her formative years, she's spending high school tenure with her father in gloomy Forks, WA (Bella's "personal hell on Earth"). Charlie's not a bad guy, though. Sure, her new ride is an decades-old pickup truck, but he got it for her as a welcome home present. Whatcha think, Bella?
"Wow. Free."
Oh, you cunt.
So she warms on the car later. She's young, she's from a broken home, maybe she'll turn out okay eventually. Then comes the first day of school. Having been there myself, I can say that the first day at a new school sucks. It's the definition of awkward. You do your best to find some allies in the other new kids and hope that everything turns out for the best. It's even worse in a small town like Forks, where everybody knows everybody and a newcomer sticks out like a sore thumb. All eyes are on her, although in Bella's mind it's not just because she's the new girl; she's clearly superior to the small town hicks. She's desperate not to stand out, but everyone gravitates towards her nonetheless. She gets the syllabus for her English class and she's read it all before. Twice she associates bravery with those who attempt to talk to her. Girls try to befriend her but she can't remember their names. As far as the eligible bachelors of Forks go, the nerdy guy who tries to help her through her first day she labels "overly helpful." The more attractive one who helps her, however, is "the nicest person I'd met today." But then comes Edward.
He and his vampire buddies sit together at lunch, away from the great unwashed. Bella's instantly drawn to them - and why not? They're ridiculously attractive, well-dressed, and graceful. They're equally aloof, which doesn't fare well for Bella when the only free seat in her biology class is next to him. He looks like he wants to kill her the entire time, for reasons she can't fathom. When the bell rings, he bolts. "He was so mean. It wasn't fair." Poetic justice, it seems, is lost on her.
As far as first impressions of Stephenie Meyer's much bemoaned writing style, it's pretty clumsy in that easily accessible Dan Brown way but rarely terrible. It could be intentional; after all, the narrator is a teenage girl. So no demerits... yet.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
It's on now: I'M BLOGGING TWILIGHT.
I don't watch that many horror movies. When I do, they tend to involve zombies. But if I had to pick a second favorite monster, it would be vampires.
When I was a kid, I caught a bit of Bram Stoker's Dracula on television. I can't remember exactly what about it hooked me, but watch the trailer and it's not hard to see how it draws you in. There's a chaotic energy to the camerawork and editing, and a sumptuousness in the costumes and art design that borders on erotic. The effects are straight-up old school. And every inch of it is dripping with sex.
Yes, sex. They might be undead and totally evil but there's something damn sexy about a well-dressed, smooth talking vampire. Martin Landau mentions as Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood that "If you want to make out with a young lady, take her to see Dracula." If you'd rather see a young lady make out with a young lady, there's always the lesbian vampire genre. Lesbian zombies? Not in a million years. But you can't have sex without violence, and vampire movies provide plenty of that, too. The vampire movie, it seems, is tailor made for the part of the male human brain that never evolved past "caveman." Or "high school freshman" for that matter.
So imagine my surprise when a year or two ago, a new kind of vampire takes America by storm. He doesn't feast upon our fragile, virginal women. He doesn't mow through victims, leaving a trail of demolished jugulars in his wake. He's not even European. He's a sparkly brooding pretty boy and he's stolen the hearts of tweens and lonely housewives everywhere.
Seriously?
Let's not be so reactionary, you say. Remember Interview with the Vampire? It's a who's who of beefcake. Not so fast, I counter. Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas are men's men. There is no "Team Lestat."
It would be easy to mock the Twilight series sight unseen, to write off its success as the product of an easily manipulated female fan base (their brains are smaller than men's, you know). God knows I've done that with enough of pop culture's drecks already. But the Twilight series is different. It's not a phenomenon on the level of Hannah Montana or High School Musical, it's an actual, honest-to-God phenomenon; the film adaptation of the first book was the 7th highest grossing film of 2008. It earned almost $200 million. That's more than any James Bond film.
I must know my enemy.
I must read Twilight.
When I was a kid, I caught a bit of Bram Stoker's Dracula on television. I can't remember exactly what about it hooked me, but watch the trailer and it's not hard to see how it draws you in. There's a chaotic energy to the camerawork and editing, and a sumptuousness in the costumes and art design that borders on erotic. The effects are straight-up old school. And every inch of it is dripping with sex.
Yes, sex. They might be undead and totally evil but there's something damn sexy about a well-dressed, smooth talking vampire. Martin Landau mentions as Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood that "If you want to make out with a young lady, take her to see Dracula." If you'd rather see a young lady make out with a young lady, there's always the lesbian vampire genre. Lesbian zombies? Not in a million years. But you can't have sex without violence, and vampire movies provide plenty of that, too. The vampire movie, it seems, is tailor made for the part of the male human brain that never evolved past "caveman." Or "high school freshman" for that matter.
So imagine my surprise when a year or two ago, a new kind of vampire takes America by storm. He doesn't feast upon our fragile, virginal women. He doesn't mow through victims, leaving a trail of demolished jugulars in his wake. He's not even European. He's a sparkly brooding pretty boy and he's stolen the hearts of tweens and lonely housewives everywhere.
Seriously?
Let's not be so reactionary, you say. Remember Interview with the Vampire? It's a who's who of beefcake. Not so fast, I counter. Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas are men's men. There is no "Team Lestat."
It would be easy to mock the Twilight series sight unseen, to write off its success as the product of an easily manipulated female fan base (their brains are smaller than men's, you know). God knows I've done that with enough of pop culture's drecks already. But the Twilight series is different. It's not a phenomenon on the level of Hannah Montana or High School Musical, it's an actual, honest-to-God phenomenon; the film adaptation of the first book was the 7th highest grossing film of 2008. It earned almost $200 million. That's more than any James Bond film.
I must know my enemy.
I must read Twilight.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The case for: V
V is off to a way better start than Flash Forward, ABC's other new sci-fi ensemble show (and possible successor to Lost, so hopes the network) of the 2009 television season. However, that's 100% based off of the final 10 minutes.
The majority of V is spent introducing our main protagonists and antagonists of the series and setting up the plot. It's fairly rote stuff. The exposition isn't very compelling, mostly because this is a remake and even if it weren't, everyone and their brother knows that the aliens are obviously evil. I'm predisposed to like Elizabeth Mitchell's character and think Morena Baccarin is silkily creepy, thanks to their respective turns in Lost and Firefly. Everyone else, I couldn't be bothered to care about yet. Speaking of which, add in Alan Tudyk and this show is a television sci-fi fan's wet dream. I half expected Summer Glau to show up as Cameron and blow all the aliens away. Evil aliens are why we need killer robots, people!
Fortunately, shit gets real at the end. Those terrorist cells that our heroes were investigating? They're made up of aliens! And Wash is one of them! But that black dude who used to be involved with the conspiracy theorists is here to kick ass and save the day! And now Wash is dead! And that black guy is a good alien! It's crazy and slightly predictable but by golly it works.
So yes, my endorsement of V is strictly on its potential. But I was more involved in those final minutes than I was for three episodes of Flash Forward. It's worth a shot.
The majority of V is spent introducing our main protagonists and antagonists of the series and setting up the plot. It's fairly rote stuff. The exposition isn't very compelling, mostly because this is a remake and even if it weren't, everyone and their brother knows that the aliens are obviously evil. I'm predisposed to like Elizabeth Mitchell's character and think Morena Baccarin is silkily creepy, thanks to their respective turns in Lost and Firefly. Everyone else, I couldn't be bothered to care about yet. Speaking of which, add in Alan Tudyk and this show is a television sci-fi fan's wet dream. I half expected Summer Glau to show up as Cameron and blow all the aliens away. Evil aliens are why we need killer robots, people!
Fortunately, shit gets real at the end. Those terrorist cells that our heroes were investigating? They're made up of aliens! And Wash is one of them! But that black dude who used to be involved with the conspiracy theorists is here to kick ass and save the day! And now Wash is dead! And that black guy is a good alien! It's crazy and slightly predictable but by golly it works.
So yes, my endorsement of V is strictly on its potential. But I was more involved in those final minutes than I was for three episodes of Flash Forward. It's worth a shot.
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