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Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Remembering Monica
What blue dress? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia
by blogSpotter
I was a naïve 40 year old Democrat in 1997, when the first whispers of “Monicagate” hit the political airwaves. There was a lot of rumor and innuendo, but no proof that President Bill Clinton, serving his 2nd term, was having an affair with anyone at all. I was a Clinton supporter, and couldn’t imagine that the rumors had any credibility. Clinton was already confronting the Paula Jones accusations; in a Jones deposition he denied any rumors about the 22 year old intern, Monica Lewinski. That Clinton was willing to settle out of court with Paula for $850,000 should’ve clued me in. That’s a nice chunk of change even for a sitting president and ex-lawyer. To friends and anyone who would listen I’d say, “These accusations are ridiculous! There are cameras and people all around!”. I figured that Paula was just a gold-digger. And diehard Clinton-haters were behind all the rest of it.
I was surprised and concerned when the Drudge report broke the story on January 17, 1998. Everyone in my Supply Chain class huddled around the TV in the lounge that afternoon, as the story played out on CNN. This was only Day One, and already the snarky jokes had begun. It seems that Monica Lewinsky, a college intern from an affluent California family, had “inappropriate relations” with Clinton from 1995 thru 1996. Lewinsky’s superiors, well aware of the situation, decided to place her at the Pentagon – well away from the President. There, the love-struck girl became friends with the (still) serpentine, evil Linda Tripp – a motherly, middle-aged confidante with book royalties and political intrigue coiled up in her heart. Lewinsky confessed all to Tripp, who dutifully recorded the conversations and handed them over to Ken Starr, the Independent Counsel investigating Paula Jones. Starr gave Lewinsky “transactional immunity” if she would spill the beans on Clinton. Very reluctantly, Monica did just that – otherwise she could’ve been prosecuted for perjury. She even turned over the infamous “blue dress” (kept at Tripp’s suggestion) to help seal the deal.
The blue dress became the watershed evidence – no longer was there any he-said-she-said. Clinton had to come clean (so to speak) and at the very least admit an “improper relationship”. The rabid Republicans in both houses of Congress were champing at the bit for any reason to take the rascally, popular president down. Imagine their delight when it looked like there was just cause. The House voted to issue Articles of Impeachment, and a 21-day trial ensued in the Senate. Clinton was acquitted of all charges and remained in office. His Arkansas law license was suspended from his earlier false testimony to Starr, but that was his only punitive consequence.
AFTERMATH OF A SCANDAL
Monicagate very nearly became the orbital center of our pop culture for the two years that it played out. Moralists decried the fall of American values. Comedians mined it heavily for a mother lode of jokes which produces gems to this day. Middle aged matrons wagged fingers at Monica – “That filthy tramp!” – without pausing to think that the 50-something Leader of the Free World might have had some control over his own situation. Tripp was easily vilified as the ultimate betrayer and portrayed by John Goodman on SNL. Republicans used Monicagate for “Holier Than Thou” posturing until Larry Flynt came calling, bringing down GOP Congressman Robert Livingston, aspiring Speaker of the House, as the sacrifice that comes of hypocrisy. The scandal produced catch-phrases that resonate to this day:
“I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky.”
“This vast right-wing conspiracy that has been conspiring against my husband since he announced for Predident…”
“It depends on what the definition of the word is is”.
Clinton later attributed his indiscretions to stress and pressure. “I cracked, I just cracked”. He since has rebounded admirably as political operative and husband to Hillary who herself has soared as NY Senator and then Secretary of State under Obama. As for Monica, she had a short-lived stint as a C-List celeb after Monicagate, publishing a bio, and attempting a purse line. She has since finished a Masters degree in Psychology from the London School of Economics and otherwise keeps a low profile, away from the glare of publicity. If she never does a noteworthy thing, her contribution to our historical and cultural lore will be inestimable.
© 2010 blogSpotter
Labels: Humor, Politics, Society
Friday, January 01, 2010
It's All About the Gifts
I Know You Want Me -- Picture courtesy of Acer
by blogSpotter
Dear readers, I’m having my year-end writer’s block along with coming off of colds, flu and vacations. If I can ever get back to my normal, quiet and otherwise healthy existence I may recover the muse of witty and provocative blog-writing.
That being said, we’ll have to make do with a "Christmas memory" retrospective and movie review combo. My mother has become frail in recent years and we don’t do an over-the-top, house-of-lights yuletide festival that we once did at her house. In fact, this year there was nary a Santa candle to be found on any table top. We still had a wonderful family gathering with good food, cheer and gift exchange. In a Dickensian moment, it finally occurred to me that Christmas is not about the gaudy tinsel decor or the towering Scotch pine Christmas tree. It’s not really about the Mississippi mud pie or pecan fudge desserts. No sir, not at all. In the final analysis, Christmas is about the gifts. OK, you can bring baby Jesus into it too if you want. After we did our exchange of cologne, jewelry, candy, gift cards and various DVD’s all was right with the world. Well, almost right.
My Mother’s gift to herself was a purple (Amethyst) Acer Aspire netbook computer. It’s the new model, with 160GB hard drive and Windows 7 Starter edition. She paid about the same as I paid a year ago for a black HP Mini with Windows XP and a seriously smaller hard drive. I don’t know why my mind works as it does, but in the time that I set up her new Aspire, my HP Mini (which now has a dark spot on the middle of the screen) lost pretty much all of its appeal. How can I go thru major electronics as quickly as other people go thru shirts or magazines? I haven’t done anything yet, but an avocado green mini is probably in the near future for me.
We had 10 people and 4 dogs crowded into 1 house, so I had to flee the premises a couple of times to go to the Round Rock Cinemark. I watched Up In the Air in which George Clooney portrays a workaholic bachelor who lives out of a suitcase and lays people off for a living. The movie is an eye-opener for some of us who can relate to the main character’s lonely but simultaneously clueless situation. This movie will make the viewer question what success is in any real sense. It ends a little bit sadly and ambiguously -- you hope that George’s character, Ryan, has found a key to happiness if not yet happiness itself.
I also caught Sherlock Holmes with Robert Downey and Jude Law. This movie was stylish and plush with eye candy for all. With it’s clever plot twists, technical intrigue and fun bromance attitude, it reminded me of either Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid or maybe The Sting. Some of the technical gimmickry reminded me of Wild, Wild West where things improbable for 2009 are shown happening in London of 1887. No matter -- this movie is certainly not for historical nitpickers. This movie is for anyone who enjoys action, romance, intrigue and plot twists galore -- the main ingredients for all great cinema.
In sum, I had a really fun Christmas and very long (6 day) stay in Round Rock. I’m hoping that my future blog entries bring me back to history, science or philosophy but I’ll need to flush all the cold medicine, flu germs, and Christmas candy out of my system. Cheers, and Happy 2010 to all.
© 2009 blogSpotter
Labels: Cinema, Humor, Retrospective
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Channeling Perez
Giving us the scoop and some doodles -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia
by blogSpotter
Why do I envy Perez Hilton? Because the nonchalant, 30 year-old publicity hound is one of the world’s most successful bloggers. His real name is Mario Lavandeira and he was born to Cuban American parents in ’78. He’s worn many hats already in his short career. He’s been a GLAAD publicity agent, actor, receptionist and managing editor of Instinct magazine. He finally struck pay dirt with his on-line gossip rag, http://perezhilton.com.
The web site leverages off of Hilton’s LA celebrity connections -- many photos are originals from events that Perez personally attends. Hilton claims the site has received 8.5 million hits in one day, a staggering number. (That would probably bring my site down). His 'stage name' Perez Hilton is an obvious play on Paris Hilton -- a devoted BFF who receives a lot of promotional build-up on Perez’s site.
Others are not so fond of Perez -- his site has been drawn into much controversy. He’s been accused various things -- falsely reporting Castro’s death, playing copyrighted music of Britney Spears, and defaming an LA DJ by reporting a drug arrest. One of his biggest ongoing controversies is the outing of GLBT celebrities who aren’t ready for the spotlight. He so far has maintained that the outing is perfectly OK although civil litigation begs to differ.
The latest Perez brouhaha has been the Miss California controversy where he, as a judge, asked the perky bimbette her opinion on gay marriage. She replied that marriage should be between one man and one woman. There was a media storm that followed when Miss California lost the competition (as a result of how she answered the gay marriage question?). Perez poured gasoline on the fire by referring to Miss California as a 'dumb bitch' on his blog. The controversy whip-sawed a different direction when it turned out that Miss California had posed for some topless photos earlier in her career. ('It was windy').
The bombastic 'angel of mercy' Donald Trump gave Miss California a break for her tawdriness, probably hoping to quell the prior controversy with a little after-the-fact forgiveness, letting her keep the title.
Stir, stir, stir. What have we with Perez? We have an extreme, successful far-out-of-the-closet gossip maven who knows how to work it from a business standpoint. Closeted gays and Christian conservative models would probably do well to stay out of his way. And 5-hits-a-day blogSpotter would do well to capture any part of Perez’s momentum or business know-how.
© 2009 blogSpotter
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Avoiding the Worst-Dressed List
Or is that a faux pas? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia
by blogSpotter
I am very far from being a fashion plate. I couldn't ever be an editor at GQ magazine or even the men's wear section in Exercise for Men. But in the great whirl of daily life, I have seen the fashion follies of nerds and even heard the cruel remarks that are made about the fashion-disadvantaged. This is a very practical list of guidelines for someone who isn't clothing or looks-centered but nevertheless wants to "present" acceptably. You've heard of Robert's Rules of Order -- these are Robert's Rules of Avoiding Fashion Exile:
1. Cleanliness is next to Godliness - There is no bigger turnoff than halitosis, body odor, greasy hair or dandruff. I've heard some males in particular imply that cologne is unmanly. I myself would rather smell like Paco Rabanne or even Old Spice than smell like an armpit. Even if you are of the group that abhors cologne (due to allergy or fear of appearing effeminate) you should know that people in general and women in particular like a nice fragrance. Even if you don't have the light, woodsy scent of Calvin Klein cologne, at least smell vaguely clean. The waft of freshly laundered clothes or Irish Spring is far better than funky shirt and smelly under arms.
2. Be within the decade. Only the idle rich or shallow can spend lots of time and money primping in mirrors and trying on clothes. It's true that the clothes don't make the man. BUT --- if you start to resemble a street urchin you might be "unmade" by people who avoid being seen with a big nerd. You don't have to be up-to-the-minute trendy; just make sure your clothes are in a moving 10-year window of current fashion. Suspenders were fun in 1986 -- now they're not. Stone-wash oversize jackets were hot once upon a time; now it looks like a thrift store purchase.
3. Stick with classics, and let the store clerk help. Display mannequins sometimes give a giant hint about what colors and styles go together. You can hardly go wrong with traditional (yes "square") items. Stay AWAY from the teen department and be age appropriate. Expensive, high fashion garments when inappropriately donned, will elicit laughter and hurtful, mocking words. :-) Good, traditional brand identities can help steer you the right way: Izod, Arrow, Levis, Timberland, J. Crew etc. Don't buy extensively (much less exclusively) from discount stores and thrift stores. A reputation is at stake!
4. Buy clothes that fit and replace them when they don't fit any longer. DON'T wear high water pants. DON"T wear threadbare clothes that need replacing. DON'T wear the same item so frequently that people wonder if you have anything else. I had a college physics professor, a nice woman, who only ever wore two dresses. One was blue, one was green and they were otherwise identical. We would place bets on which dress she'd wear on a given day. Who knows, maybe she had a walk-in closet with 50 look-alike dresses.
5. Don’t be too much of an iconoclast. People have different "inner selves" that they may want to express with fashion quirks. The problem is that sometimes an external expression can be garbled, much like a verbal expression. Thus, your studded black belt makes you look like a jaded S&M freak, not a tough guy. A shaved head can call to mind skin heads and Neo-Nazis; sometimes a buzz (or burr) cut gives you the same low maintenance without frightening the ACLU. Other looks that happen by happenstance are: waif, pirate, Amish villager and halfway house denizen. Unless you really are an S&M freak, waif, pirate, Amish villager or halfway house denizen, dial back on the individuality some.
In general, the ideas here are fairly obvious. I think that people who are bright and creative (OK, myself included) sometimes get so lost in the stratosphere of thought, they never alight to the bionosphere of ordinary living and interacting. So you're not Tommy Hilfiger or Ralph Lauren -- nobody gives a hoot about that anyway. You're clean, refreshed and nicely, albeit casually groomed? That's all that matters, and that's a look that works.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Office Party
Jan and Michael share a tender moment -- Picture courtesy of NBC
by blogSpotter
One of my favorite television shows this season is The Office on NBC. The show is in its 4th season, and didn't win me over right away when it started in 2004. At the outset, I thought it moved at a slow pace and the humor was subdued. I stuck with it though, and what I've seen over the past couple of seasons is a terrifically honed cast reaching its stride. As I recall, Seinfeld was slow and quirky in its first couple of seasons. Sometimes it takes a little while for the ingredients to mix.
What we have now is a delicious comedy pastiche -- a viciously, hilariously accurate lampooning of the American office. Steve Carell plays Michael Scott, the pathetically insecure boob who manages the Dundermifflin sales office. One of his employees is Stanley Hudson, a sardonic aging black man who has little patience for Michael's nonsense. We also have Angela, the uptight priss who serves as office accountant. There is smirky Kevin, good-hearted Phyllis, loutish Andy, gay Oscar and by-the-book Toby to round things out. Pam, played by Jenna Fischer is perfect as the sweet and slightly mischievous secretary. John Krasinki plays Jim Halpert, the handsome salesman who rises above the level (and sometimes to the same level) of Michael's outrageous tom-foolery; he also is Pam's on-again off-again love interest. Ryan is the young MBA suck-up who has usurped Michael by going from temp underling to regional manager. Last but definitely not least is Dwight Schrute, a lead salesman who is Michael's lieutenant of sorts. Dwight is a nerd who lets any whiff of power go straight to his head. In episodes where Dwight is given even a momentary responsibility (selecting a health insurance plan for the office, subbing for Michael) he goes on a power-mad kick -- seeking to fire people or form some kind of secret cabal. A real-life Dwight would probably be committed to a padded cell at some point.
Many of the characters you see are but a shade away from someone you know. Michael the boss is so over-the-top, I can’t help but think someone that self-centered and incompetent would be fired in short order. As it happens on the series, his workaholic fembot of a boss, Jan, becomes romantically involved with Michael. Her emotions and behavior become erratic -- she goes on work day shopping sprees and gets her breasts enlarged. She's the one who actually gets canned (at end of last season). The show has so many romances, conspiracies, betrayals and what-not it's hard to keep pace. You might liken it to a soap opera, but these characters seem very real and multi-dimensional, unlike a soap opera.
The Office has some excellent comedy veterans writing and producing for it. Greg Daniels, producer is also known for The Simpsons and King of the Hill. B.J. Novak who plays Ryan is also a writer/co-producer of the show. He's well-known from his previous work in stand-up comedy. Steve Carell of course has been in several movies of late, and is at the top of his game. If you find yourself channel surfing on Thursday evenings, stop and watch The Office. You might not glean all the rich irony and humor from a first viewing, but as you learn the characters' quirks it will become must-see TV.
© 2007 blogSpotter
Labels: Humor, Television
Thursday, November 01, 2007
The Bigger Bang
Cast of The Big Bang theory -- Picture courtesy of CBS
by blogSpotter
CBS' Big Bang Theory is new this season, and it lives up to its name. I've often thought I was too smart for my own good, and this show bears it all out. Intelligence is a curse -- that is if it goes to the extreme of geekiness. Big Bang centers around two nerdy college guys, Leonard and Sheldon, who live across the hall from a comely blonde woman named Penny. Leonard is played by show-biz vet Johnny Galecki (Darlene's boyfriend on Roseanne) and Sheldon is played to perfection by newcomer Jim Parsons. Kaley Kuoco is Penny, the blonde eye candy. She's a waitress at the Cheesecake Factory and a source of fascination to Leonard.
What makes the show fantastic is the verifiably nerdy dialog -- there clearly is a computer science geek on the writing staff. On the very first episode, Leonard and Sheldon both have white boards full of equations. Each is trying to win Penny over with his respective mathematical proof. Needless to say, Penny is unimpressed by this wayward mating ritual. In later episodes it appears that Leonard is slightly more socially adept than Sheldon and also has it bad for Penny. Knowing that his chances are slim, he attempts to ingratiate himself w/ her, while trying not to let on that he has a crush. Sheldon is more "out there" and has a bit more trouble with real one-on-one human relationships. In typical dialog, Sheldon will miss the overall point of a discussion to argue over scientific minutia.
As if Leonard and Sheldon weren't geeky enough, their friends Howard and Rajesh have been thrown into the mix. Howard kids himself that he's a lady's man, though his comb-over and poor track record speak for themselves. Rajesh is so terrified of beautiful women that he freezes and can't speak when in the presence of Penny. When you get these four into a room with a woman, there will be heat -- heat generated from discussions about relativity or dark matter. There will be no sexual heat. If it weren't for the hilarious presentation of the material, I'd almost cry rather than laugh; it's all too familiar and realistically captured. One has to thank God that there is the occasional pretty woman that is charmed by a smart man. It looks like they may be building towards a Leonard-Penney romance in the next season. Let's stay tuned to The Big Bang Theory and see if love truly can conquer all.
You can catch The Big Bang Theory on CBS Mondays 7:30PM CST -- (CC) TV-14.
© 2007 blogSpotter
Labels: Humor, Television
Saturday, March 03, 2007
The Left-Wing Oscars
Oscar goes red -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia
by blogSpotter
I'm watching the Oscars tonight as I write this, and am struck by how left-wing they've become. I myself am pretty left-wing, so this is no problem to me. Ellen Degeneres, an out lesbian is the host. Ellen pointed out that if it weren't for blacks, gays and Jews there would be no Oscars -- and probably nobody named Oscar.
Not only was Al Gore's Inconvenient Truth a nominated movie, but Gore himself was a presenter; Leonardo DiCaprio, his copresenter, egged Gore on to announce his 2008 candidacy. (Gore did not comply).
To go along with all the leftitude, Melissa Etheridge, another out lesbian, sang a theme song from Inconvenient Truth. Various data from the movie (about CO2 levels and such) were shown on the backdrop as she sang. At the close of her song it was announced that this is the first "Green" Oscar ceremony ever. Ellen Degeneres said she would recycle some old jokes to be ecological:
"What about that Ginger in Gilligan's Island? Can you believe how many clothes she brought for a 3 hour tour?"
This Oscar ceremony was also the most multiethnic, with more nominees of other races and nationalities. I was disappointed that Eddie Murphy didn't win for Dreamgirls. He was excellent in his role and the movie as a whole was shut out of other so many categories.
The show is still going as I write this. I'm rooting for Babel as best picture -- it's an outstanding panoramic movie about communication problems between humans. Of the 4 intertwining plots, the one about the deaf and emotionally starved Japanese girl was the most unusual, and the best.
As I sign off, Gwyneth Paltrow is giving an award for cinematography. Yet another lefty who moved to England and then talked trash about W Bush. I love the Oscars, and I really love this one. Many conservatives hate what has happened to the entertainment industry. To conservatives out there who don't like the Dixie Chicks winning Grammies, or Ellen recycling jokes -- here is what you must do. Become culturally aware and sensitive to the problems of other people. Different does not equate to bad. Understand that your religion is just that -- your religion. Realize that tax breaks and business profits are not the main objective in life. Gradually, you will decalcify; you'll become less of a Republican and more of a liberal. You'll agree with Hollywood -- and I hope that's not an inconvenient truth.
© 2007 blogSpotter
Sunday, January 14, 2007
How Not to Write a Screenplay
My shattered Hollywood dreams -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia
by blogSpotter
My readers may be surprised to know about my failed 'attempt' as a screenwriter. Back in 1998, I attended a home seminar given by a preeminent Hollywood screenwriter who taught at the University of Dallas. He had to be 80 then and is probably dead by now. I won't divulge his name; we'll call him Henry Powell. Mr. Powell was best known for writing screenplays for The Waltons back in the 70's. While that show was schmaltzy, and hardly an accurate reading of the 1930's, I can use helpful tips from any commercially successful writer. The friend who referred me to Mr. Powell said he was an eccentric gay old man, and that he was. He lived in a small house in a Garland suburb -- the house was totally concealed by overgrown trees and bushes. The neighbors had to love it. Mr. Powell was a chain smoker and his house was full of smoke and nicotine residue. He kept it tidy but smoke always sticks around. The house was filled with statues of naked Greeks as well as various fertility artwork and pictures of male genitalia.
I figured that the other screenwriters would be lively, interesting people. I was so wrong -- it was 5 of the saddest, most somber people I've ever met. The meeting mostly was people reading works in progress and getting professional critique. One man read the first two scenes of "Heist" which was about (what else?) a bank robbery. Another man nearly put me to sleep with a screenplay about the Mexican American war, until he included a bit of gratuitous smut at the end. There were no winks, no laughter even in the "light" spots; these people could've worked at a mortuary. I shared my "treatment" idea as an email to Mr. Powell; being a novice I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of these pros with my lame material. It's good that I did it as email, because Mr. Powell ripped my material to shreds.
My story is that of a pro football player who is also gifted with a great singing voice. The story is about the battle that brews between his sports agent and his talent agent, each one trying to steer the budding star away from the influence of the other agent. Mr. Powell had these many comments:
Don't make it a musical
Don't make it a period piece
Don't make it fantasy or science fiction
Don't make it about horror or monsters
Make it a contemporary setting
Write about what you know about
Am not certain to this day if these limitations were for a novice or writers in general. Surely the former and not the latter. Anyhow, he hated my idea. He picked it apart, down to the font I used (must be courier size 10 I think). We came away with the idea that I should write about someone who experiences identity theft on a computer. Oh, now THAT'S never been done before. Now who's El Lamo? Was reminded of Carol Burnett playing Eunice, and calling her acting coach (played to shrill perfection by Madeline Kahn) "Miss Cat Woman from Mars" with snarling sarcasm. How dare The Walton's writer, the man who penned "Good night John Boy" criticize this great Bard? His credibility was further eroded by his opinion that "Good Will Hunting" is one of the best screenplays ever written.
I was greatly discouraged and put away my crayons. Truth is, writing is a lot of work and my 'real' job was eating my lunch at the time. Otherwise, rest assured: the Bard of Dallas would have written his Magnum Opus.
© 2006 blogSpotter
Labels: Humor
