Brits and God; Brits and Sex; Brits and Ghosts! (11/6/09)

It's Friday, everyone, and your friendly neighborhood blogger has lady troubles, so on we dash to the news in brief, after which I am going to make and eat an entire pan of brownies. Delish!

BROWNIES!!!

David Cameron thinks he's American
Why else would a Brit be talking about God and stuff in public? Cameron. Dude. Your constituents are English. You're making them uncomfortable. Calm down.

"Americans love puppies, too, right? Puppies and Jeebus?"

Britty conservatives object to mandatory sex ed
Seriously, is this opposite day? I thought the Brits were supposed to be sensible about these things. Hey, Brits! Here in the US, states with abstinence-only education have really high teen up-the-duff rates, on account of the kiddies don't understand how the duff works or what one must do to get something up it.

Sex ed, southern-style.

But the real story here is that, according to the Times article about mandatory sex ed, the British Schools Secretary is named Ed Balls.

Anglotastic loathes Ricky Gervais
So you guys, I just spent a horrible evening at Carnegie Hall listening to Ricky Gervais tell tasteless jokes about the following things:

• rape


• child molestation


• fat people


• homosexuality

It was offensive, it wasn't funny, and there was no point to it, other than perhaps to illustrate that Ricky Gervais is a dirty old man. For realz, some people actually walked out. FAIL.

I hereby revoke your Union Jack, Ricky Gervais. You're dead to me.

Ghosts tip off Welsh police
True story: Welsh police are using information from ghosts in a murder inquiry. Okay, Wales. That's not weird at all. And believe me: The rest of the world totally takes you seriously.

"I saw everything, Officer. It was terrifying!"

Okay! Now you are own your own for entertainment sources for the weekend, though I can recommend that you hop over to iTunes and download some free eps of the John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman podcast "The Bugle: An Audio Newspaper for a Visual World." It's fantastic.

John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman reporting for duty at "The Bugle."

And now I'm off to have brownies for dinner. Jealous much?

A Redacted Doctor Who Post (10/11/09)

Bureaucracy is such a bother.

Friday's absolutely fascinating post contained potentially sensitive information obtained from a man known only as "the Doctor." It had to be reviewed by one Harriet Jones, Prime Minister, before I could post it, and it's only just been returned to me. Ms. Jones has redacted all compromising information, and I am allowed to post the rest of it, as follows:

XXX XXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX until the Apocolypse. XXXXXX XXX XXXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXX that song about single ladies XXXXXXX XXXX XX X XXX!

XXXXXXXX XXX XXXXXX XXX XX XXX X, XXX XXXXX - XX XX, XXX XXXX'X! XXX XXXX XXXX green skin and fangs XXX XXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX if Jane Austen really had a zombie lover XXXXXXX XXX XXX XX XXXXX XXXXX XXXX XXX XX stupid werewolf.

XXXXX XXX XXX XXXX XX XXXXXXX XXX X Robert Pattinson will eat you XXX XXXXXXXX XXXX XXXXXXXXXX XXXXX XXXX XX but the Harry Potter cast XXXXXX XXX XXXXXX XXXX XXX X according to the Independent.

Shocking, isn't it? I guess you just never can tell with some people! *shakes head* *sighs*

Simon Pegg and Nick Frost make funny films (9/21/09)

Hey, you guys, have we ever talked about how awesome Spaced is? No? Well, let's do.

Spaced is awesome! Are you, or have you ever been, or will you ever be, a marginally employed twenty-something, slightly to the left of nerdy, who has creative aspirations in the way of drawing comic books or writing articles for magazines with a circulation greater than 1,000?

Jessica Hynes and Simon Pegg as my heroes Daisy and Tim in Spaced.

Yes? Then you should totes check out Simon Pegg (whose Tim Biswell may or may not be my ideal, if geeky and immature, man) and Jessica Hynes nee Stevenson (whose Daisy is my person) and their ragtag bunch of freaky friends. Espesh if you dig endless references to all things comic, nerd, and horror. (Watch the DVDs with the pop culture subtitles if you really want to be in the know. Best bit: the subtitles in later eps reference earlier moments in the series. Brills.)

They are creeps. They are weirdos. You will love it.

What brought on this paean to a 10-year-old Britcom with a weakness for the faux-macabre? Hot Fuzz, that's what! I watched Simon Pegg and Nick Frost be ridiculous and wonderful as austere and bumbling police officers (respectively, that is; not simultaneously austere and bumbling) with my roomie last night, and it was excellent. And unnecessarily weird. Also, be warned: There's a fair amount of squirting blood. So that was gross.

OMG Nick Frost and Simon Pegg bromance! Adorbs!

It resulted in kind of a cool nightmare, though: Simon Pegg. Nick Frost. A horse with the (very large) head of a parakeet. A parakeet who enjoyed spitting thick funnels of water at people. (Yes, I woke up in the middle of the night and checked my room for aggressive, water-loving creatures.) *shudder*

I dreamed about a horse-parakeet. This is a lion-parakeet. But you get the idea.

Rly quick Robin Hood update, my peeps: Robbie will be appearing in the Ridley Scott incarnation of his life May 14, 2010, and I've seen conflicting reports re: the sheriff. Will Russell Crowe be appearing as both Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham, Eddie Murphy-style, or will Matthew Macfadyen (aka Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice 2005, aka gent-who-isn't-nearly-as-fabulous-as-Colin-Firth-thank-you-very-much) be donning the persona of evil?

Will Russell Crowe take the "worst Robin Hood" title from Kevin Costner? Should we start a pool?

Also, sad note: The cast list over at IMDB makes no mention of Sir Guy of Gisbourne, which means no leering appearances by Richard Armitage (or Richard Armitage wannabes, even). Shame.

Richard Armitage's Sir Guy of Gisbourne: NOT a nice man. (Hot, though. In a dirty, angry way.)

In grocer news, supermarket chain Tesco is a bigoted, anti-Jedi organization. (Hat tip to runwithskizzors.) Jediism founder Daniel Jones was told he must remove his hood or leave the north Wales store. The chain's defense: Obi Wan Kenobi, Yoda, and Luke Skywalker all appear in public sans hood. And furthermore, "If Jedi walk around our stores with their hoods on, they'll miss lots of special offers."

Jediism: Use the Force, Luke...to find deals on aisle 2.

Love. It.

Next Stop: Hogwarts!!! (9/18/09)

I just wanted y'all to know that an "earth-like planet" has been discovered somewhere outside our solar system. Until I am informed otherwise, I'm going to assume that we'll be meeting the Time Lords who live there sometime soon. Here's hoping I'll land Christopher Eccleston circa when-he-was-young-enough-for-it-not-to-be-creepy.

David Tennant has totes grown on me. But I still miss Christopher Eccleston's Doctor Who.

In other news, Emma Watson is a big ol' sucker for your average Hollywood megastar career path: Be in films. Become the face of a major ad campaign (Burberry in this instance), which for some reason is no longer considered selling out. Launch a clothing line for which you are the "creative advisor." Ring around the rosy and do it again. But Emma's line with People Tree is all adorable and idealistic, so I'mma let it slide.

Emma Watson's Burberry trench here is actually kind of hawt.

While we're discussing things tangentially related to Harry Potter, I assume you've all heard by now that the Harry Potter theme park that Universal has been wand-teasing us with for AGES has finally (almost!) come to fruition. It's set to open in spring 2010. And you should really check out Universal's site for it; this shizz looks effing amazing. So Filmi Girl, please contact me immediately to make travel arrangements. I think we should just go by Floo Powder, but perhaps you would prefer to arrange a Portkey?

Holy effing cow, Universal's Wizarding World of Harry Potter is going to be BEYOND. STELLAR.

That's all I have time for today, kiddies. But have spectacular weekends, and I will see you on Monday. (That's right, Garfield! I said MONDAY!)

Gurinder Chadha and Merlin. Alakazam! (9/16/09)

Okay, so I've been holding out on you guys on my zoo trip. And now I'm going to share, and you're going to be jealous at first (well, Filmi Girl will, anyway), but then you're going to pity me, because I am a big wussy wuss wuss.

The Scene:
A sunny day in the Central Park Zoo.

The Cast:
Me and my pops. Sea lions doing tricks and tamarin monkeys being adorbs and cuddly red pandas chillaxing in trees. (Oh, yes—and one other person.)

Holy adorable red panda scoping out her audience of ardent admirers!

Holy adorable red panda gazing at her panda pal, who's chillin' in the grass below her. OMGz I want to snuggle her!

The Story:
I'm a wimpy douche.

The Long Version:
I was looking at pandas, and I noticed a very familiar-looking woman standing next to me. She looked an awful lot like Gurinder Chadha, in fact. And I dithered and wimbled, and she had a conversation with her husband and children, and they decided to leave the zoo.

After she left, of course, I decided that it was absolutely, unquestionably her. And I didn't have the ovaries to just tell her that Bend It Like Beckham and Bride and Prejudice are two of the most fabulous movies ever. (Emphasis on Bend It Like Beckham, as per usual.) Or that I'm wicked psyched about It's a Wonderful Afterlife.

Yeah. It was definitely Gurinder Chadha and her hubby. I suck.

Sad! But even though I totally pussed out, it's okay. 'Cause I got to see this guy rockin' his backstroke:

The polar bear swim meet is fast approaching. Work those pecs, buddy!

In non-stalker news, the Daily Mail ran an article several centuries ago (well, in January of this year...so perhaps just several decades ago) on the "end of the hourglass [figure, not timepiece]." It's...kind of a weird article. You should check it out.

You should ALSO check out Merlin. I've never heard of it before, but it seems it's been picked up in the US (did everyone know this but me?), and this blog post about it at the Guardian is hilarious. (Thank you, blogger, for calling the eleventh Doctor Who "a funny-looking teenager dressed as a history professor." I will love you forever for that.) Guilty pleasure, here I come!

In Which I Gush Over Doctor Who (8/10/09)

If you've been following this blog, you're aware that I have recently begun watching Doctor Who. You are also aware that my reaction to the series has been perfectly mature, with nothing at all obsessive or fangirl-like about it.

Eeeeeee! OMFG, I lurve Doctor Who so much!!!!!

Okay, shut up. That could've been true. (If I were someone else entirely. But nevertheless!)

For those of you who operate in real time, watching shows when they are actually current and widely popular, this will be repetitive for you. For those of you who have never seen Doctor Who, this will be incomprehensible to you (though if you like sci-fi, fantasy, time travel, awesome characters, and fab plots, you should initiate yourselves). But gush I must. Just consider this a selfish post and get over it.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!" Everybody loves an angry Dalek.

And so it begins:

I would first like to apologize to the universe at large for not having watched Doctor Who until now. I don't know what I've been doing with my life, frankly. As far as I can recall, I've been wasting it with nonsensical activities like acquiring an education, being a productive member of the workforce, spending time with friends and family, and reading silly books about wizards.

But none of that matters now. (Sorry, friends and family.)

I've only seen the new series 1, so no spoilers, if you please. (And by "I've only seen the new series 1," I mean that I spent a week on my couch watching Doctor Who and knitting. Best. Week. Ever.)

Christopher Eccleston is commanding and brooding and compassionate. He seethes with righteous anger, but he is quick to laugh and quick to smile. I love his always-amused Doctor so, so much, and I have put aside all my objections to excessive age gaps and want him and Rose to get married and have babies. Which I assume isn't going to happen, but I'm going to wish for it all the same.

Christopher Eccleston will always be the Doctor to me, y'all.

Also, Billie Piper is my new favorite person, and "Because We Want To" is my new go-to song. I LOVE that Rose runs around in slightly baggy, not-very-well-put-together clothes. Fancy that: a normal woman. And a female lead who is treated as an equal with the male lead. Who'd've thunk? Rose isn't posh, but she is smart and brave and selfless all the same, and though she sometimes needs saving, she's not a damsel in distress.

Yeah, she's kind of a chav. But Rose Tyler is a girl's girl, and I heart her THIIIIIS much.

All of the characters are actually pretty fabulous (big love to Rose's trashy, yet dignified mother), and I think that Harriet Jones, MP, should be given her own show, rather than a supporting role in one measly episode.

Jackie Tyler = One Bossy Bitch. Oh, yes.

I have a great deal of Who-watching ahead of me, which is excellent, as I've found that the more I talk about the Doctor, the more fans I find crawling out of the woodwork, excited to have a newbie to chat to. And I can assure you of this: I will be knitting that scarf. And it will be wonderful.

Perhaps less wonderful will be the upcoming season, which I told you about before. It transpires that, like Filmi-Girl, I loathe Steven Moffat's Who episodes; well, I loathe the two I've seen, at any rate. And I did feel that someone should put him in a TARDIS and send it to a time before writing was invented, as I supposed that would save us all from his horror-inspired, plot-driven, character-ignoring episodes.

But then I realized that I recognized his name: Moffat wrote Coupling! It's crass, and it's craven, but I do love that show. Shame. I wanted to hate him outright. Stupid complex human race in which nothing is ever in effing black-and-white like it's supposed to be.

Are you man enough to be the Doctor, David Tennant?

However. Back to the present (how very un–Time Lord of me!): The final episode of the season had me in floods, and I miss Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor already. You've got big shoes to fill, David Tennant!

Witches and Priests (8/3/09)

Eek it's Monday! And now I will tell you about some things of the various and sundry variety.

Witches!
Witches have always gotten a bum rap. It's invariably unjustified and usually consists of society taking out its frustrations on independent women, who are generally viewed (even today) as a threat to Life As We Know It. The best bit—the bit that really makes the witch hunters look douchey—is that the naysayers have a nasty habit of seeking the assistance of the women they revile. (The Witch of Endor, for an old-school example.) But still, witches are presented as creepy, whether they're ruining Macbeth's life, bringing plagues (in England, once upon a time), or communing with the devil in the nude (in Salem, once upon a time).

Double, double, y'all.

But no more. In a post-Charmed world, witches are good! And like Salem, Mass., which ookily takes commercial advantage of its witchy past, Wells, England, is in the witch trade: Following their recent Wookey Hole witch auditions, one lucky witch will be pulling in £50,000 a year for cackling and chillin' with cats.

Wookey Hole Witch Audition 2009. Represent.

Survey says? Sign me up! I guess I need to work on my British accent. Surely these auditions will be coming around again eventually, and I want to be prepared.

Anglo-Saxon-ipedia!
There's a version of Wikipedia in Anglo-Saxon. This is cool, though not actually useful, as Anglo-Saxon bears all the similarity to modern English as Welsh does, which is to say, none. But if you were an Anglo-Saxon scholar, this would be, like, the highlight of your year.

Anglo like whoa.

I'm in love with a priest!
Not a real one, but a fictional one. I first saw Father Peter from Ballykissangel on a Comic Relief special with my girl Dawn French, aka Geraldine Granger, The Vicar of Dibley:



So when my Netflix told me that I was an Anglophile (this is true, it really did) and suggested I watch Ballykissangel, I said, "Yes, I think I will, thanks." And a few episodes later, I fell in love with Father Peter Clifford. Just like a former Catholic girl should. I don't usually do dramedy; I'm generally all laughs, all the time. But Ballykissangel is just the right balance of light and serious. (And I'm awfully glad none of my priests were ever as charmingly goodhearted and idealistic—and young—as Stephen Tompkinson's Father Peter. I'm pretty sure that lusting after a priest counts as a sin.)

Stephen Tompkinson as most personable priest ever.

And finally, news in brief: Doctor Who is mind-blowingly awesome. Full report to come at some point in the near future. Or past. Or whenever the hell I feel like, actually, 'cause I'm the Time Lord's bitch now.

Sunday linkfest! (8/2/09)

Get ready, y'all—bad-news bears up in here. (Also gross-news bears. Thanks, haggis.)

• Haggis (sheep's stomach filled with offal), Scotland's signature dish, may have English origins! OMG! Let the infighting begin.

Haggis: Ew, Ew, EW!

• This article about the potential for robots to run amok and take over the world isn't especially English, but it is in the Times of London, and it is also fucking freaky.

Scientists suggest robots of the future could be less Jetsons and more Terminator. This could be a problem.

• The UK is planning to tighten its immigration laws in what can only be interpreted as an effort to keep me out. Bastards!

You're going to have to work harder than that to turn me away, Tea-Drinkers!

• Ants with "a fatal attraction to electricity" have invaded the UK. Perhaps Parliament should get cracking on those immigration laws, after all.

Just sing the "Electric Slide" to yourself. (Come on, now. You knew that reference was inevitable.)

• Emma Watson, aka Hermione Granger, is the descendant of a convicted 16th-century witch. (Also, Watson grew up in a town 100 miles away from where the witch lived. It's so cute, this little island where families are anchored to one spot for centuries. However do y'all manage to be so adorable?)

Emma Watson at her most Hermione-ish.

Linkfest: completed. And the weekend, tragically, draws to a close. Catch y'all on the flip side!

Rocking the Invisibility Cloak (7/29/09)

First, if you hadn't heard, some gasbag over at the New York Times is all worried about the ickle children being exposed to alcohol by Half-Blood Prince. Riiiight. (Egalitarian Bookworm said it best: "The dumbest Harry Potter article of all time.")

Gettin' trashed, wizard-style.

For a more thrilling Harry Potter update, hold onto your broomsticks: I admit the possibility that I was buried under an extra-large rock when this news dropped last August, but how the eff did I not know that researchers at UC Berkeley have made strides toward creating an INVISIBILITY CLOAK? Why would that not be the leading news story for every outlet in the world? (Instead, no one ever shuts up about this sort of nonsense.)

Anway, dudes, these science fellows and fellowettes have created a light-refracting, metal fishnet material (that's right...fishnets!) that...I dunno, I didn't really understand the paper. Who do you think I am, Hermione? But it makes things refract around the "invisible" object, and it doesn't use much energy. For now, it's best used for nabbing clearer antenna signals (um, who cares?), and because it's metal, it's too fragile to be a proper Invisibility Cloak. (Scientists have been working on this for a while apparently, including peeps at Duke and in Tokyo.)

Diagram of light refraction that somehow induces invisibility. Guy on the right is as confused as I am.

Regardless, in the press release posted on UC Berkeley's own site, Harry Potter is name-checked. Which is kind of awesome in and of itself.

Of course, this begs the obvious question: If you could have one magical skill, spell, or item, what would it be?

Awww! Daniel Radcliffe's head when he was wee!

Invisibility Cloaks are a little "Every Breath You Take"* for me, in that superfun, potential stalker sort of way, though our boy Harry usually manages to use it for noble purposes, rather than, say, spying on girls at sleepovers (hat-tip to Saved by the Bell, y'all).

I may have to think this one over, though having access to the Hogwarts Library (or Honeydukes! Yum!) might do the trick. I already have a wand…maybe I'd like a set of wizard chessmen shouting advice at me and beating each other up…Oh! I know. I want Pigwidgeon. He'll deliver letters for me. And soar around my room, twittering excitedly. He is SO precious. What say you, peanut gallery?

Pigwidgeon!

*Weird-but-awesome economic-geek cover of "Every Breath You Take." Thanks, Columbia Business School! (Nerds.)